Cho Chang's Eighth Year
by dungeonwonk
Summary: What was Cho doing during "Deathly Hallows"--apart from still carrying a torch for Harry? More details about Marietta, Penelope, Michael, and Cho's parents.
1. Chapter 1

CHO CHANG'S EIGHTH YEAR

By monkeymouse

NB: JKRowling built the Potterverse; I'm just redecorating one of the rooms. And one of the great things about JKR telling the story from Harry's point of view is that stuff could be happening all over the wizarding world that Harry isn't aware of.

Rated: PG

Spoilers: Everything

xxx

1. "Mother, father, I beg you"

xxx

The trip back to London on the Hogwarts Express was at first the quietest Cho could ever remember. Normally, students, freed from the constraints of faculty and prefects, would chatter like magpies about any and every subject: dating, families, Quidditch standings, OWLs and NEWTs, summer trips; every aspect of life.

Not now. The murder of Albus Dumbledore, the most senior wizard known to most Hogwarts students and faculty, accomplished enough in so many fields that he had long ago stopped being "famous" and was instead "history," left a hole in the world that perhaps could never be filled. Cho had spoken with him exactly once: when she and three other students were placed into the lake as part of the Second Task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament. She'd found him to be everything she'd imagined: knowledgeable without being stuffy, humourous without being flippant, sympathetic without being indulgent. Cho had no idea where one studied to become Headmaster of Hogwarts, but apparently it had come naturally to Dumbledore.

Now, Cho was where she'd spent important parts of the past three years: in a train compartment with Marietta Edgecombe. The other girl had thrown off her robes as soon as she'd gotten on the Express, packing them away as if they burned her skin. She sat in a light blue pair of Capri pants and a blouse that was an even lighter shade of blue. She was one of the few who dared change out of her robes before the train even started moving.

"Well, don't give me that look," she said half-seriously to Cho, who was still in her robes as the steam train started the long journey to London. "It's not as if being here was so wonderful for me. For either of us, actually."

"I've had my moments," Cho smiled at her classmate.

"Really? You mean the moments with Cedric or the moments with Harry?"

Cho thought a second, then her smile widened slightly. "Yes."

"Lucky you, then." Marietta had finished rooting around in her trunk for a bottle of butterbeer; she opened it and took a long pull. "I don't see much happening for me, even with my Trelawney spectacles."

"Speaking of which, do you think they'll ever get around to making us sit our N.E.W.T.s?"

Marietta plopped down onto the seat and took another long drink. "Let's see. The war is on and You Know Who has returned. Fudge has been sacked and Scrimgeour will be wearing two hats until he sorts out the new Head of Aurors. People at the Ministry are checking their backs every five minutes for knives. I'd say throwing tests at fewer than a hundred students is a low priority. Maybe we'll get tested if the war ends by Christmas; otherwise, they may just let it go altogether."

"You make it sound as if we've wasted seven years!"

"Maybe I have, if all I'm going to do is follow my mum into the Floo Network."

"And speaking of the network."

"Traffic is down, if that's what you're asking. Mum tells me that everyone takes it for granted that somebody's listening in. The only question is who."

"Well, we know that You Know Who would listen in, but are there others?"

"Take a number. Those who were loyal to Umbridge have their own faction, and so do some others who thought Scrimgeour was wrong for Minister. Scrimgeour's got a lot in his cauldron, even without the war."

Cho nodded, then sat at the window for most of the trip. She may have been watching the scenery go by, probably for the last time, or she may have been lost in her thoughts. She certainly had enough of those to deal with, including her last conversation with Harry Potter. More than a year ago, they'd ended up barking at each other over Marietta and her betrayal of Dumbledore's Army. And Cho felt utterly rotten about it afterwards. She could never work out a way to talk to Harry again after that, to see how he felt. As far as Cho was concerned, all was forgiven and forgotten; on the other hand, it seemed impossible to talk to Harry. Especially since he'd started seeing the Weasley girl a few weeks before Dumbledore's murder.

Very strange, that. He'd stopped seeing her almost at once, according to student gossip. Did he fancy himself Voldemort's next target, then, and want to keep her out of harm's way? Had she actually done something to put him off? Or did he simply lose interest in the face of a threat more real than any he'd faced since his encounter with Voldemort as an infant?

Cho didn't know how to figure this one out. She had just spent the past seven years mostly in the company of other Ravenclaw. She knew how to analyze a problem, how to arrive at a sensible solution, and how to break open double meanings of words in search of a trick answer. When she was with Cedric (and, by extension, came to know a number of Hufflepuff on a first-name basis), she learned the need at time for perseverance, for attacking a problem relentlessly even if one doesn't fully understand it yet. None of this prepared her to fall for Harry Potter, who turned out to be the quintessential Gryffindor. Anyone whose first instinct is to charge into a burning building needs neither brains nor perseverance.

Cho let out a long, loud sigh. Once again she had to face what she well knew, what many of her friends knew: she was still, despite all odds and circumstances, desperately in love with Harry Potter, and unable to do anything about it. And, once the summer was over, Harry would be back at Hogwarts for his final year, and she'd be with her family in Diagon Alley, and they could go years without seeing each other again. Not the best of prospects, as Marietta would say.

Fortunately, at that moment, Eddie Carmichael opened the compartment door unannounced, as was his habit. "What's the good word, ladies?"

Before she could give a verbal answer, Cho's stomach growled. Loudly.

Eddie fell to the floor laughing. Cho had to cover her face to keep from bursting out laughing. And, of course, this was the moment that the trolley witch brought the snacks around.

The rest of the trip sounded more like its usual self. There were still long stretches of silence, of course, as the students contemplated what might come next in a world where Voldemort was once again a factor. But, now and then, laughter or singing would erupt in one compartment or another. Even the oldest students, after all, were not so far removed from being children, and their spirits could not be kept down forever. Something would bring them to life, if only for a little while, whether that something was sports or jokes or love.

Cho didn't focus on that during the trip back to London, however. She had a more important mission in mind. She'd had it in mind for days.

xxx

She found her father waiting just outside the barrier in King's Cross; him and a handcart for his daughter's luggage. "I suppose this is the end of having elves take care of all this for you," he smiled, as he shifted her trunks and an empty owl-cage to the handcart.

"I could have done that myself, you know," Cho said, "but thanks."

"Well, now you're back, what's so important?"

"Something that has to wait until I'm home and speaking with both of you. Sorry to be so mysterious, daddy, but I've had quite a revelation, and I need to talk to both of you about it."

"I suppose you don't want me to play Twenty Questions about it."

"Let's just leave it until I get home, please."

Chang Xiemin had to respect that. He piled Cho's luggage into a horse-drawn carriage, which took off with a jerk as they settled inside.

"I don't understand; why are we going home like this?"

"The death of your Headmaster has had echoes even in Diagon Alley. You'll see."

The streets and alleys around King's Cross were as crowded as usual late on a summer evening, with both Muggles and magicians taking advantage of the long days and warm temperatures. Last year a cold mist had descended on London to announce the return of Voldemort; this time, the cold and misty feelings were provided by the people, who, even as they tried to enjoy the balmy weather, glanced about continuously for anyone whose appearance might be a bad omen. Things were, if anything, worse.

The horse-drawn cart steered down a very narrow alley, which barely let the cart pass. Finally, Cho recognized the neighbourhood as Knock Turn Alley, where dodgy wizards dealt in questionable goods. Cho had never been warned to avoid this neighbourhood, though; her parents dealt scrupulously and even-handedly with the merchants here as well as in Diagon Alley. For refusing to take sides, the Changs were respected in both parts of town, and few could say that.

The cart made an abrupt turn, and Cho realized that they had just passed Gringotts' and were in Diagon Alley again. With a sick heart she saw that Ollivander's wand shop was still shuttered, which didn't bode well for Ollivander. Still, if something had happened and his body had been discovered, someone would have moved on the property long ago. No news (of Ollivander) was quite literally good news in this case; Cho was surprised to realize that this was just one aspect of wartime life to which she would have to adjust.

Customers passed in and out of the Chang apothecary shop; Cho's father gave her a look as if to say, I'll take care of the baggage, while you go and help your mother. She walked into the shop and, without a word of welcome, her mother Lotus Chang spoke up: "I need dittany and camphor bark from downstairs."

Welcome back, indeed.

xxx

The shop stayed open until almost sunset. People were stocking up, intent on preparing all sorts of potions, charms, and remedies. Cho tried to guess what was being made from the ingredients, but had to give it up. Either many of these were old recipes, kept secret within the family, or new inventions appearing in some magazine or other. The one thing all of these potion-users had was desperation. They hoped to be ready for whatever might befall them.

Finally the store was locked up after the last customer left, and Cho and her parents went into the house where a cold supper had been laid out on the sideboard hours earlier. Fortunately, the family cat, Chairman Miao, couldn't get through the enchantments and was sleeping happily on the sofa after finishing his own dinner.

No sooner had the tea pot started pouring for the three Changs when Lotus spoke up: "Did the papers get it right, then—was it Snape that killed Dumbledore?"

"That, and worse," Cho said. "By most accounts, the blow was supposed to be delivered by young Malfoy. It's so typical of You Know Who if he suspected the loyalty of the elder Malfoys; this way, such an atrocity binds them to him."

"So the Potions Master kills the Headmaster and is never heard from again."

"He stopped being Potions Master last year: Horace Slughorn took that role. Snape taught Defense Against the Dark Arts; pity nobody taught Defense against Snape. In any case, we've seen the last of him, I'm sure."

"Not as long as he's still breathing," Cho's father sighed. "He may not be welcome at Hogwarts, but he can still cause all sorts of mischief."

Cho took a deep breath. "And that's what I wanted to ask you two about. After seven years at Hogwarts, after being exposed to what they have to teach, I realize that it's not anywhere near enough; not enough for this war, and not against You Know Who."

She paused a second, and her parents gave each other the slightest of glances. Cho hadn't mentioned anything to anyone, but surely they saw this coming.

"Yes. Anyway," Cho went on, "I know we've talked about my asking at Tutshill if they had an opening for a Seeker, but, well, it all seems rather trivial now. Don't get me wrong; I'd still like to give Quidditch a try, but only after all this other business is finished. I need to learn the things I couldn't learn while I was at Hogwarts. I need to preserve the potions that you know, so that someone else may know them in case."

Cho had been sitting on the sofa. She slipped off onto the floor, kneeling before her parents. "Mummy, daddy, I need you to teach me Chinese magic. I know there's probably more than a lifetime's worth to learn, but I won't feel like such a wasteful little fool unless I at least start now and try to catch up.

"Mother, father, I beg you; please teach me what I still need to know."

She waited a minute, then two minutes, while her parents sat still and silent. Had she done something wrong? Weren't they happy about her decision?

Lotus finally spoke. "Please go up to your room for a minute. We'll send for you."

"Wait! Did I say something wrong?"

"We can talk about that later. Now, please go to your room."

They weren't telling her anything, which to Cho could only mean one thing. She got up off her knees, then ran up the stairs and into her bedroom.

What was wrong with her? What was wrong with them? Couldn't they tell her plainly and right out what she was doing wrong? Did they have to leave her hanging like a fish on a hook? And what did it mean if they were telling her 'no'? What if she wanted to help her parents and found that she could not when the time came?

Just then, she heard her father's voice through the door: "Please come back downstairs, Cho."

It seemed pointless, but Cho went back down to the parlour. It wasn't until after she had sat down on the sofa opposite her parents that she notices the large box on Lotus' lap.

Cho's father spoke first; "You should understand by now, dear child, that we're not much good at this sort of thing. But we're very, very glad that you asked us."

"There's far more to learn than there is time to learn it, of course," Lotus interrupted, "which means we'll have to test how quick-witted you Ravenclaws really are."

"Yes, and, erm, in the meanwhile, we're sure you've earned the right to wear this." Xiemin was referring to the box that Lotus held, although she seemed to forget it was there. She remembered and handed it to Cho.

"You'll be using this for practice and lessons and so on," she told Cho.

Cho didn't know what to expect, but when she looked inside the box she was stunned. Her parents had put her wand inside the box, where it now lay next to a bamboo flute—something Cho had no idea how to play. Also in the box was a bright orange silk tunic and pants. There was Ravenclaw-blue piping on the cloth, and animals were embroidered on the two breasts of the tunic: a brilliant white swan, and a white horse with a flaming mane and tail.

Cho just stared at it for a minute before speaking. "I, I never saw anything like this at Hogwarts."

"And you wouldn't," Lotus said, almost critically. "Those are the robes of a Chang."

Cho continued looking at these robes as her father stood up. "Don't stay up too late, dear. You have a long day tomorrow."

Cho didn't say anything; she just smiled, looking at these new robes. She felt that she could face anything now.

xxx

To be continued in part 2, wherein Cho begins her studies despite the world around her…


	2. Chapter 2

CHO CHANG'S EIGHTH YEAR

By monkeymouse

NB: JKRowling built the Potterverse; I'm just redecorating one of the rooms. And one of the great things about JKR telling the story from Harry's point of view is that stuff could be happening all over the wizarding world that Harry isn't aware of.

Rated: PG-13

Spoilers: Everything

xxx

2. First Steps

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The next morning, Cho was awoken by her mother rapping on her bedroom door.

Inside of a minute she was in her new orange robes and meeting her mother in the parlour. "What's first?"

"Breakfast, of course." Lotus turned to go to the kitchen.

"No, I mean the Chinese magic lessons!"

"So do I."

"Mother!"

"Cho; sit down." Cho sat near the fireplace. "Maybe we should have talked more about this last night, but this isn't like Hogwarts. It isn't a matter of learning a few magic words and wand flourishes. Chinese magic is far deeper, has lasted for centuries, and encompasses more than you can imagine. I promise you we'll start the lessons later today, but I also promise you that you will fail at it for the first few weeks, or maybe longer."

"Then what's the point?!"

"The point, my little Horse, is that you must understand everything that you need to do, because you need every little bit of your body and mind and heart to do it. Chinese magic can do so much because it demands so much."

"So what are we waiting for?"

"As I said, breakfast."

"But why?"

"Cho, if these lessons are to mean anything, I must make one demand. It is this: never ask why. I will tell you what must be done, and you will do it. Either you trust me, or you don't, and, if you don't, the lessons are over. Do you agree?"

Cho dropped her eyes, hoping that her mother couldn't see her cheeks burning. "Yes, mother."

"All right, then. Follow me." Lotus turned and, without a glance back, started down the stairs, leaving Cho to catch up. They went down to the cellar, where Lotus went to a storeroom.

"I prepared it this morning." She opened the door.

The floor was covered with more than a hundred teacups, from wall to wall, made of the most delicate porcelain. They were all inverted, bottoms facing up.

"It's been some time since I did this," Lotus said, as she took a wooden sword from the wall outside the room. She went in and stepped on a cup; it should have broken under her weight, but it didn't. For ten minutes she walked from one cup to another, moving the sword in graceful gestures, never glancing down, never misplacing or breaking a single cup. Finally, she stepped out of the room.

"Try it," she told Cho.

A very nervous Cho stepped onto a cup just over the threshold. It immediately shattered under her weight.

"Reparo," she muttered, blushing again. She tried a second time, and a third. Each time her weight shattered the cup.

"Listen to me, Cho. Chinese magic is divided between men and women. Don't talk to me about equality of the sexes, because I don't want to hear it. To prepare you for what you must learn, we will begin with what is called lightening the body. Your meals will now be prepared with a special mix of herbs to help with this. You will walk on the cups without breaking them; you will even be able to ride the wind. But this will take time. Come to breakfast." Lotus turned and went upstairs, again without a backward glance.

Cho might have thought at first that her mother simply wanted to humiliate her; now she knew better.

The last part of the puzzle was added that evening, as Cho ate dinner with her parents. "Mummy, I know you said not to ask why, but you gave me a flute…"

"We don't expect you to be musical. Use it to settle your mind."

"How?"

"I'll explain after dinner, dear."

"You may as well explain now; I've never touched an instrument before. I'm sure I'm quite harpy-handed at making music."

"This isn't about joining the Philharmonic or anything, dear. You only need play one note at a time."

"I'm trying very hard not to ask it, but…"

"Fine, then." Lotus waved her wand, clearing away the dinner dishes except for small bowls of lime desserts. The family didn't speak a word until the bowls were empty; then, Lotus beckoned Cho to follow her up to Cho's bedroom. Lotus sat on the bed and motioned for Cho to join her.

"You saw me this morning, didn't you? You saw me stepping on the teacups without breaking them." Cho nodded but didn't say anything. "And then you tried it yourself. Did you believe it?"

The question confused Cho. "Well, I saw you do it and all, but I didn't know what was happening."

"You thought it was some sort of trick, then?"

"Only because I didn't understand what you were doing right that I wasn't."

"Part of it involves understanding, and part of it is something deeper. We use music in Chinese magic as a form of meditation. We focus our ears, our breath, our muscles, everything on one small event, one note. We make the note happen, then we let it fade away. In that moment, the note is all that exists; it's all that matters. When the note is gone, so is the rest of reality, and in that moment you are freed from physical limits. In that moment of absolute nothingness, everything is possible. Once you understand that, to invest everything into something so small and transient, you can use that level of concentration to lighten the body, or do anything else. Do you understand?"

"I think so." Lotus looked at Cho and could tell that, this time, she really did understand, at least the general idea.

"Fine. Practice the movements in the daytime and the music at night. Don't neglect either of them, since each can help you with the other."

"Mummy," Cho asked, as Lotus made for the bedroom door. "You aren't just going to leave me to my own devices, are you?"

"I can't play the flute for you, anymore than I can turn my weapons on myself. Ultimately, these are your lessons, and you must practice and practice and practice them. But this is what you wanted, isn't it?"

"Yes, mummy, but…"

"This isn't such a big house. Even if I'm not in the room, I'll probably know your progress, and, if you need my help, I'll be here."

Cho smiled. "That's all I need; thank you."

"Start on the flute now. Don't stay up too late." With that, Lotus left the room as if Cho wasn't still there.

Cho simply looked at the flute for several minutes, not knowing how to hold her fingers or shape her lips. After a while, she realized that nothing would happen—rightly or wrongly—if she didn't try. She raised the flute.

xxx

It took a week before Cho was able to get a note that vaguely sounded like music out of the flute. She hadn't a clue about embouchure or fingering, and couldn't take time to go to any of the other libraries around London to look for a musical text. Anyway, Lotus seemed to trust Cho to figure it all out on her own.

At first that faith seemed misplaced. Cho made what she would later realize were all the classic mistakes of a musical beginner, especially by blowing harder and harder to try to produce a sound. After a couple of sessions in which she nearly hyperventilated and passed out, she went in the other direction and used less and less breath, while also moving the flute and changing her lip positions. Finally, late on the Saturday night, Cho succeeded in sounding a note, surprising herself in the process. Succeeding at getting a sound from the flute was a major achievement for Cho—especially since she continued to break teacups with each step.

The flute lessons eventually led her down the path her mother had mentioned: focusing on the single pure sound to the exclusion of all else, and thus settling her mind. It was easy, because the sound seemed to come from no one place in particular: not from the flute, not from Cho's breath, not from the room itself, but from a combination of all of these and more besides. Admittedly nothing dramatically magical was happening, but it was making Cho wish that Hogwarts had used music to awaken magic in its students.

xxx

The herbs that Lotus added to Cho's diet were subtle; sometimes Cho thought she recognized them, but more often she could not. She asked about them only a couple of times, and was met with silence. This told her not to ask. Lotus never said anything about it, but she was probably afraid that Cho might experiment with herbs on her own. She really needn't have worried: Cho had spent all of her life around these plants and had a more than healthy respect for them, even if that respect was tempered at times with a lively curiosity.

Cho's father never took part in her training, but this didn't really matter. When time permitted, usually after the shop was closed for the day, Chang Xiemin and his wife would spar in the cellar room with the teacups. On these occasions Cho saw them go after each other with all manner of weapons: whips, weighted sashes, lances, daggers disguised as hairpins. They clearly meant to hurt, if not kill, each other, but then never did. This was sparring taken to the limit: keeping their skills alive while not causing any serious damage. Cho noticed, however, that they never used two weapons that were mounted on the walls of the parlour: the wooden sword that her mother sometimes gestured with, and a traditional Chinese musical instrument made of bamboo, called a sheng. Cho knew that the sheng was an instrument, but didn't know if there was anything magical about this one.

About three weeks after coming home from Hogwarts, Cho was taking a bath, in part to keep cool on one of the hottest days of the summer. "Mummy," she called out, "are you there?"

"Do you feel all right, Cho?"

After a moment, the bathroom door opened, and Cho stepped into the hall, naked as the day she was born. "Is this supposed to be part of it?"

"Part of what; the herbal diet?"

Cho nodded. "When I was a kid I so looked forward to turning into a full woman, but now I seem to be going backwards!"

"Do you really think so?"

"I think my bust is shrinking! And I think I'm losing hair down there!"

"I suppose I should have warned you. When I was your age in China, I stayed in a temple and studied these techniques with a dozen other girls my age. We lived together and could always compare notes."

"Compare notes about what?" Cho's father was on his way up the stairs; when he saw his daughter, he blushed, muttered, "Oh, my," and dashed back downstairs.

Lotus looked as if she was trying very, very hard not to laugh. "If you're worried, I can adjust the herbs a bit. Better finish your bath." Lotus started downstairs.

xxx

Although she didn't discuss it with her mother, Cho had a goal. She hoped to master the teacup business by the last day of July: Harry Potter's birthday. Even if he knew nothing about it, Cho wanted to be able to look back to the idyllic days of Dumbledore's Army: when she was one of two dozen renegade students taking private lessons from Harry, defying the small-minded Dolores Umbridge, mastering the Patronus Charm. Then there were the impossibly wonderful weeks when Harry actually loved her as much as she loved him…

By the time the sun set on the last day of July, Cho had trodden on, and broken, more cups than ever. It was getting worse and worse. She didn't even think she could talk to her mother about it. She'd keep her own counsel, for at least one more day.

She ate dinner because it was expected; besides, her mother would demand that the herbs be eaten. So Cho finished off dinner early, then retreated to her room with her flute. She had been experimenting with various notes on the flute, and found that hitting the E in the second octave seemed to make the entire room vibrate. She took a deep breath, and slowly let it out as she played that E. And, for the first time, she found herself completely within the note. She was no longer a listener: it was part of her, although she couldn't have said how.

Nor could she have said that anything was different the next morning, 1 August, as she went down to the cellar and stepped on a teacup.

And it didn't break.

She didn't dare move; she hardly drew breath for five minutes. She was that afraid that something would go wrong, the moment would be lost, and porcelain would begin shattering all over again. But it didn't. At the end of the five minutes Lotus finally showed up, saw Cho standing on the cups, and beamed at her daughter.

That was all Cho needed. She waited a little, and went back later that day. Again, she moved from one teacup to another, with no breakage. She had made it; she was part of this new ancient world of Chinese magic. There was no telling what would be next.

xxx

Friday morning, 2 August, Lotus awoke early, as usual, and went to wake Cho. Her bedroom door, however, was open and she wasn't in her room. Lotus went down to the cellar but found Cho in the parlour, sitting on the sofa, staring blankly ahead like an Inferi. She had one hand on Chairman Miao, and held the Prophet with the other hand.

"What's wrong, Cho?"

For answer, Cho held the newspaper out to her mother. The cover was dominated by the biggest "screamer" headline Lotus had ever seen:

MINISTER ASSASSINATED

xxx

To be continued in part 3, wherein Cho and her parents consider the past and the future…

A/N: This series is based on Chinese magic, as explained in books such as Richard Wilhelm's "The Secret of the Golden Flower" and "The Wandering Taoist" by Deng Ming-Dao. For those who are interested, these resources, among others, are available. The point is that the wire work in movies like "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon" is not just movie magic, but is based on Chinese magic.


	3. Chapter 3

CHO CHANG'S EIGHTH YEAR

By monkeymouse

NB: JKRowling built the Potterverse; I'm just redecorating one of the rooms. And one of the great things about JKR telling the story from Harry's point of view is that stuff could be happening all over the wizarding world that Harry isn't aware of.

Rated: PG-13

Spoilers: Everything

xxx

3. Changes

xxx

Lotus called at once for her husband. She practically screamed; she sometimes screamed during arguments with Cho, but this was different. Cho had never heard that tone in her mother's voice before. She began to realize that there was so much she didn't know about Lotus Chang.

The family spent a few minutes discussing whether to close the shop for the day out of respect. However, the Prophet didn't give any indication whether the new Minister would have wanted that, and the Changs knew, whether or not they came out and said it, that anyone standing against the new masters of the Ministry would be suspected of a host of disloyalties.

Sure enough, when they opened the shop for the day, two suspicious looking wizards were among the customers. They never placed an order; they simply walked around the floor, making a big show of taking notes. What any of it might have meant, they never said. Even when Lotus asked them point-blank what they were looking for, they didn't answer her. When they did speak, it was rudely to customers they seemed to consider undesirable.

By the Sunday after the takeover, things had begun to sort themselves out. The two suspicious wizards vacated the shop, but stood in Diagon Alley, watching everyone coming in or going out. Occasionally they would harass certain customers (who tended to be older, slower, and more vulnerable), and once or twice per day made a point of arresting someone, sending them to the Ministry.

xxx

"I must be thick," Cho said that Sunday evening at dinner, "because I'm missing something. Are those two trying to get to us through our customers?"

"I think they have several customers in mind, even if we can't see them. Think about it: the Ministry has been taken over by the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters. That's plain. But his priorities haven't changed, have they? The posters are still all over the Alley."

The "posters" were blow-ups of the face of Harry Potter, under the slogan "Undesirable Number One." This amused Cho to no end; not only did she still desire Harry very much, but she doubted that he had ever had a picture taken that made him look suspicious, menacing, or at all sinister. The posters simply made him look as if he was back at the Hog's Head Inn in Hogsmeade, organizing Dumbledore's Army and a bit bemused to be doing so.

"Harry's supposed to be coming here?"

"Among other places in the Alley. Because they think he really wants something here."

Cho looked down at her plate, fighting off a blush and trying not to grin from ear to ear.

"I meant Polyjuice ingredients!" Lotus spelled the dirty dishes into the kitchen sink. "He's going to need a barrel of the potion now, isn't he?"

"Well, he's used it in the past," Cho began.

"But did he ever change himself into an octogenarian?" Cho's father interrupted. "That seems to be the only kind of customer they've targeted."

"That only makes sense," Lotus sniffed. "If you're going to disguise yourself, you'd want a type least like your own."

"But not too far off, especially for something this serious," Cho added. "If you had a couple of elderly witches acting like students, that would be a giveaway."

"Perhaps. But this latest batch of Death Eaters doesn't seem as sharp as the ones before you were born."

"All they're looking for now is brute force and unswerving loyalty," Cho's father added. "Frankly, the ones I've seen are vicious enough, but they barely have the brains to go into a store and buy a Chocolate Frog."

Cho couldn't help but glance at the fireplace, in case somebody was listening in through the Floo Network. But nobody said anything.

xxx

The next day, during a rare lull in business, Cho asked: "Did you have to go through all this when you first got to London?"

"No," Lotus said, with the hint of a smile. "And we weren't completely sure what to tell them. I'm sure you realize already that Chinese magic does things a bit differently, and some of these English are very hard to read. You can never be sure who would resent what we can do, or who would be open to accept it."

"I'm more than a little ashamed of it now," Cho's father added, "but we sometimes used their own stereotypes against them. You talkie funny, they think you not so smart, they leave you alone." James had lapsed into a bad comic Chinese dialect, like from an old Muggle movie; then he lapsed back into his normal speech. "Of course, that made it easy for us to keep an eye and an ear on them. They figured we were harmless."

"Well, you were harmless; I mean, weren't you?"

"I think the Dark Lord wouldn't have known what to make of your father and me," Lotus smiled. "He had his own ideas of how a Pureblood should sound and act, even then. As long as he thought we didn't offer a threat to his rule, and as long as he hasn't a clue about Chinese magic, he won't much care about us or the shop."

"And now that I'm here too?"

"Now they know about your time in the so-called Dumbledore's Army, and being Harry Potter's, erm, friend."

"Will they hold that against me? Worse, against you?"

"Who knows what they'll do with that bit of information? I expect they would use it if they could."

xxx

The Changs were kept under Ministry observation, and a few times that fall Cho's parents were actually summoned to the Ministry on very flimsy pretexts, but basically they were left alone.

"That was a day wasted," Cho's father complained one evening in October. Dinner had been held up and the shop had been short-handed while he was at the Ministry all day. "They wanted to examine our license to import boomslang skins; not that there's anything to examine. I think they just wanted to look like they were doing something."

"Who are they trying to impress, then? Apart from the Dark Lord, I mean."

"Each other. They have to look as if they're doing something. Of course, the ones who really are doing the Ministry's dirty work are so busy that they don't have to put up a front."

"Who would that be?"

"The Registry lot. They had to drop their plan to list half-and-halfs as well as Muggle-borns; it would have involved too much work and implicated too many wizarding families."

"Sounds like Amateur Night over there," Lotus sniffed. "How's the Ministry getting anything done?"

"Same as during the last war: Imperius those you can and Cruciatus for the rest. Lots of threats, but this is one of those times where their propaganda works against them. They can threaten most families with all sorts of punishment, including Azkaban, but they're bound to favour the old Pureblood families. Many of the threats never amount to anything."

"Seems funny and sad at the same time," Cho sighed.

"So did the last war," sighed her mother.

xxx

By mid-October Cho had made an accidental discovery that even her mother hadn't warned her about. The room full of teacups was heavy with humidity from the thunderstorm rattling Diagon Alley that day. It may have been part of an attack of some kind—since Scrimgeour had been assassinated, order and civility were on the decline in the wizarding world—but Cho was glad to be at home, away from the Alley and out of the weather.

She had just moved quickly from one corner of the room to another, deftly walking on the teacups without breaking them at all. She had stopped to watch Chairman Miao apparently trying to imitate her. He walked onto one of the teacups, then shook his paw as if he'd gotten it wet. Cho found the cat's movements hilarious, but she tried very hard not to laugh, lest she break her concentration.

The thunderclap was a loud one; Cho momentarily thought that the house had been hit. She couldn't tell what the cat was thinking, but it tensed every muscle and then leapt across the room toward Cho. Cho jumped backward, her back hitting the middle of the wall.

And she stayed there.

Her mother may have taught her about lightening the body, about meditation, and about all of the rest, but she hadn't mentioned this. Cho was clinging to the wall like an insect, without feeling at all that she was likely to fall back to the floor. Again, she simply stayed where she was to see if her mother would come looking for her. Sure enough, a few minutes later, Lotus called down from the shop: "We need some help here!"

"I think I do too, mummy. Can you come down for a moment?"

Cho watched the doorway until her mother appeared. When she took in the scene, Lotus's eyebrows went up in surprise. Cho, not knowing what to say or do, edged up the wall until she reached the ceiling, then kept going, crossing the ceiling on her back.

Lotus watched Cho; all she said was, "Don't show off, dear; come up and help us."

But there was no mistaking Lotus's proud smile for her daughter.

xxx

"Have I ever met Minister Thicknesse? I don't remember."

The Changs were having dinner about a month later. It was November, and the weather was already miserable.

Cho's father shook his head with a rather sad smile. "Believe me, if you'd ever met him, you still wouldn't remember. He was something of a nonentity even when he headed Magical Law Enforcement."

"I suppose that would be an advantage. Keep a low profile and people don't know you're coming."

"On the other hand, who was that Auror you were telling us about at Hogwarts; Moody?"

"Mad-Eye Moody."

"Yes. He was just the opposite of Thicknesse. You always knew if he was within a mile of you. He was never one for being undercover, and he got results."

"But remember," Lotus interrupted, "Moody never wanted to be Minister of Magic. Being just an Auror wasn't a problem for him, and Scrimgeour was one of several recent Enforcement heads who were killed."

"Does any of this explain Thicknesse, then?"

Cho's father shook his head. "On the one hand, this is a state of emergency, and it makes sense to promote the Enforcement head to be Minister of Magic. But Thicknesse isn't exactly a wartime Minister, is he? He just acts as if the worst of everything is over now, and tries to maintain that all is well."

"Then why do the Ministry workers act so foolishly? If all is well, they haven't heard about it."

"Well spotted," said Lotus. "You're the Ravenclaw; what does all this tell you?"

"That Thicknesse really isn't in charge," Cho said without a moment's hesitation. "He puts himself out there as Minister, but it's an act. Or someone's using Imperius on him. Or someone's assumed his identity using Polyjuice. After all, you said a little while ago that the Ministry was trying to find out who was buying Polyjuice ingredients. If I depended on it that much, I'd be worried."

"Well reasoned," Cho's father smiled.

"Perhaps, but it doesn't really help us, does it? Short of all-out war, there's no way we'll get the Ministry back to independence, is there?"

"Not at the moment, anyway. We need to keep our eyes open, and find our allies when and where we can. Meanwhile, we keep to the shop and keep a low profile."

Cho nodded, but doubted whether the day would ever come that there would be enough allies to change things.

xxx

To be continued in part 4, wherein Cho and her parents receive too many visitors for the holidays…

A/N: I'm of the opinion that "Pius Thicknesse," JKR's puppet Minister, is an implied critique of Pope Pius XII, who led the Catholic Church during World War 2 and did (according to many observers) little or nothing to try to save Europe's Jews from Hitler's "Final Solution." One such view of Pius was in the play "The Deputy" by Rolf Hochhuth, which was eventually filmed by the brilliant and political director Costa-Gavras ("Missing," "Z") and called, simply, "Amen."


	4. Chapter 4

CHO CHANG'S EIGHTH YEAR

By monkeymouse

NB: JKRowling built the Potterverse; I'm just redecorating one of the rooms. And one of the great things about JKR telling the story from Harry's point of view is that stuff could be happening all over the wizarding world that Harry isn't aware of.

Rated: PG-13

Spoilers: Everything

xxx

4. The Knock on the Door

xxx

Now that Cho had mastered lightening the body, and found that she was able to climb walls effortlessly and even make her way across ceilings, she asked at dinner one night later that week, "So, what's next?"

Lotus leveled a critical gaze at her daughter. "Do you eat during lessons?"

"I don't see what that has to do with anything."

"I won't teach during meals."

"Well, forgive me for being enthusiastic."

"Cho, why do you think you're playing one note at a time on the flute?"

Cho went back to eating. She knew the answer—concentration, meditation, focus—but her mother seemed to be in one of her moods. Something was wrong somehow, and she'd have to find out later.

She found out after dinner, which was probably how Lotus had planned it. Cho had just finished spelling the dishes clean and into the cupboard when her mother walked into the kitchen.

"There's tea in the parlour." That was all; she turned and left the kitchen.

This was strange. It was as if Lotus wanted to tell Cho something, but also wanted Cho to ask the first question, make the next move. Well, Cho thought, I've already done that. For a second she considered just going to bed and leaving the mystery until tomorrow or the next day; try to force her mother to do something for a change. But Cho immediately gave up on that plan, since she really wanted to know what was next.

Lotus was on the sofa; Cho sat in the comfy chair opposite. As soon as she did, her mother asked, "Has this been clear to you so far?"

"To tell the truth, not always. You let a few things go until I was already well on the way to learning them."

"So, why didn't you say anything?"

"Because I trusted you. I haven't seen you or daddy do a lot of Chinese magic, but you've spoken of it, so that I knew that you knew what you were doing."

"Have you heard us speak of chi?"

"Only in connection with herbs. Is chi part of this larger magic?"

"Chi is part of everything. It's part of the life-force that moves us. We each have our own levels of chi within us, and the herbs and potions we've worked with in this family for generations are intended to balance the chi and direct its flow. Now do you understand why we can't talk about it as part of your training, even though it's an important part?"

Cho thought she understood, but, as usually happened when her mother's lessons abruptly shifted from one subject to another, she doubted her own grasp of the subject. "It seems to me that some of this was covered at Hogwarts, although not the way you speak of it. Our Potions and Herbology classes and so on."

"Fortunately, they didn't give you too many misconceptions. I think we can start tomorrow formally adding chi to the lessons. Informally, it's been there from the beginning."

Cho realized that this bit of news didn't clarify things very much. It was what she expected to happen. She felt that she was still at Hogwarts, in a way, but didn't know how she felt about that.

xxx

Winter seemed to come early to Diagon Alley; the days were cold and overcast, not at all like some of the golden, melancholy autumn days Cho remembered from her childhood and from Hogwarts.

But it didn't really matter to her. Chi was a concept that actually explained a lot to Cho. The hard part was what Lotus demanded of her: the ability to see chi. It didn't help that Lotus insisted that there were many different forms of chi, but refused to answer Cho's question (which she thought was a perfectly logical question) as to how many kinds there are.

"The kinds of chi are as numerous as the life it activates. And I don't mean just plants or just animals or just people. Chi is within and moves all things, from the ants in the ground to the stars in the heavens."

"Then why can't I see it everywhere?"

"Because you've only just started, Little Horse. Only the great sages, in heaven and on earth, can see more than one or two kinds of chi. If you could see many kinds, you would lose sight of the world itself. You may as well be blind."

"Well, what would I see now?"

"When I see a person's chi, it's rather like a blue fire. Of course, now that I've said that, you should try to forget it. You might see a different kind of chi and think it's a mistake."

"I'll try to remember that. I mean, I'll try to remember to forget. You know what I mean."

This brought an almost soundless chuckle from Lotus. Cho thought that her mother was especially beautiful when she smiled, which she did so seldom. Laughter was even rarer for her.

Cho's days were fuller now than they had ever been at Hogwarts. She walked on teacups, and extended her moves to the walls and ceiling. She played the single note on the flute, losing herself in it. She read such few books as her parents had which talked about chi, and tried to wrap her mind around what she learned. Unlike Hogwarts, there were no texts, no real lectures, no exams. She had no way to be sure that she was learning what she needed to learn, except for her own instincts and the occasional corrective words of her mother.

xxx

The shoppe closed for Christmas, after the annual crush of customers on Christmas Eve finishing up potions at the last minute. On Christmas morning Cho insisted on serving tea to her parents. Her gift was the tea set, which was enchanted to change its designs according to the phases of the moon and the seasons of the year. The cups and saucers and pot went from Chinese to Japanese, from Victorian to Dutch. This morning tea was served in a Swiss motif.

Her parents bought her a new set of books she had read most of her life: the five Classics by Confucius. This was an enchanted annotated set of the books, a scholar's edition quoting Lao Tzu, Meng Tzu, and other Chinese sages and scholars. Cho looked through one volume, and put it aside after five minutes. Not that she minded the difficulty, but, after all, this was a holiday. She looked forward to spending literally years combing through these books, perhaps never finding an end to what lay within.

That evening, after dinner, they were in the upstairs parlour using the tea set again. The set had gone from Swiss to a brightly colored Korean design, and the black tea had a strong but pleasant scent of lemon and ginger. Cho was inhaling the tea before drinking it, when she looked up at the wall and the objects mounted on it.

"You've yet to tell me: what are those things?"

"Apart from the obvious, you mean?"

"Mummy, either you trust me to want to learn about Chinese magic or you don't. And I doubt you'd go through all this trouble if you thought I couldn't do it."

"No need to get defensive about it, Cho. I just needed to know what you needed to know. So; how much do you know about the Immortals?"

"They lived in or about the eighth century. Each possessed a different magical ability."

"Actually, the ability lay partly in themselves and partly in their tools. That's why the tools are called the Covert Immortals. It's an intimate relationship."

"Then there's something about those tools, then, or are they just representations?"

"They aren't 'just' anything. They carry the power that their owners carry. The sheng is made of bamboo, as was the original."

"And whose weapon was that?"

"The lone woman among the Immortals: He Xiangu. They knew she was special at birth, because of six very long hairs on her head. When she was a bit younger than you are now, she began to change her diet, among other things, to become an immortal. Some years later, she rose up to Heaven; there were many who witnessed this."

"What other things, mother?"

"What?"

"What were the other things?"

"Is that important?"

"Just for my own curiosity."

"Yes. Well, He Xiangu also decided to remain a virgin for the rest of her life."

"Ah." Cho gave her mother a smile that held several meanings. "Even if I wanted to become an Immortal myself, I couldn't deprive you of becoming a grandmother."

"Well, I hope you don't rush into motherhood on my account." Now it was Lotus and her husband who exchanged meaningful looks. "Since you haven't mentioned it, I assume you've heard nothing."

Cho finished the thought: nothing about Harry. "And we know why I can say nothing even if I knew."

Xiemin sipped his tea, which the cup kept warm no matter how long since it had been poured, and spoke to Cho: "Your mother and I have taken this quite well, don't you think?" Cho couldn't help remembering some of the arguments she had had with her parents about Harry, and nodded. "I think you know what we mean to say. As to the sword on the wall, it's made of wood from a peach tree, which if anything has helped focus and amplify its power against evil spirits. The sword was the weapon of Lu Dongbin. These days he'd be called an alchemist. He was a thorough scholar, which you'll surely appreciate. He was also fond of drinking and fond of the ladies, which we'd rather you didn't imitate."

"No fear, daddy," Cho smiled.

xxx

The store closed early on 31 December, so that Cho could help her mother in the kitchen. They had to celebrate the New Year with the rest of Diagon Alley, which meant the Gregorian calendar rather than the lunar calendar. So they prepared a traditional ten-course dinner to celebrate. They would have invited their neighbours the Tans, but after Minister Scrimgeour was assassinated they had quietly closed up their house and moved back to China "for the duration." The Changs accepted that they would have no guests this year.

So the Changs were surprised when the doorbell rang five minutes after the first course was served. Cho went to the door and opened it to reveal Penelope Clearwater, who she met on her way to Hogwarts for the first time. Penelope was several years ahead of Cho, but they kept in touch, and Penelope was as much a friend of Cho's as any of the girls in Cho's year. Before Cho could say a word, Penelope's face twisted into a tearful howl; she grabbed Cho's shoulders, and at first could only get out one word: "Audrey!"

That ended dinner as a family sit-down event. Cho took Penelope to the upstairs parlour, where she sat before the fire and, sniffling between sips of tea, told her story to Cho and, when she brought food into the parlour for the girls, Lotus.

"I never thought he'd take that Ministry rot seriously," Penelope moaned. "The Weasleys have always been friends of the Muggle-born. And when Percy and I were together, he never once threw my parents back in my face. Never! But now…" Penelope started crying again.

"Let me take a guess, dear," Lotus said as she brought in two plates of steamed dumplings for the girls. "Nobody heard about this Audrey until two or three months ago; correct?"

Penelope just buried her head in her hands, quietly sobbing as her hostesses watched. After a few minutes, she pulled herself together and looked at Cho; Penelope's eyes were puffy and bloodshot, as if she'd been crying for hours. "I know it makes Percy sound as shallow as the gutter in the street, and I know he was never like that. Maybe I was more intellectual than he, but he never held that against me. Never!"

"Which means that he traded you for this Audrey for only one reason…"

"Mother, please!" Cho tried to stop Lotus from saying it, but Penelope spoke up.

"It's all right, Cho; Merlin knows I've thought the same thing. He knows I'll end up on a list of those the Ministry considers inferior, and he doesn't want to have me stand in the way of his career, now that he's working for Minister Thicknesse." Penelope grabbed for her teacup and sipped it. "And, whoever she is, I'm sure she comes from a fine old Pureblood family. And I hope he has a long and happy life with his Pureblood little bitch!" Penelope threw the teacup into the fire and dissolved into sobs again.

Lotus looked as if she were going to throw Penelope out, but Cho held up her hand. She Summoned the pieces out of the fireplace and Repaired the cup. "Penny dear," Cho said, taking Penelope's hand in both of her own, "do you want Percy to be with Audrey? Or will you try to win him back?"

"Honestly, I want him to suffer. I want him to know that his heart was broken, the way mine is now. But how will he ever know?"

"Nothing personal, but what makes you think he still could care, after doing something like this?"

"Be-because I, I remember," Penelope said as best she could through her tears. "When I w-was cured of the b-b-basilisk attack, P-Percy met me at the in-infirmary. And he looked so sad and so relieved, and he held me so, so…" She had to take a couple of deep breaths. "Why didn't I die right then, at that moment? I haven't been as happy since then, and now I just want the earth to open up and swallow me."

"Mother, please, can Penny spend the night here? She's in a bad way, and it's probably too late to take her anywhere else."

"Such as where?"

"We both have other friends here in London; other Ravenclaw girls. Perhaps they can…"

There was a thunderous banging on the door. This was followed by a man's voice calling out loudly and angrily: "Open up in the name of the Ministry! We're in search of a fugitive Mudblood!"

Lotus turned to Penelope. "Child, if you value your life, you will stay in this room. We can keep them from getting to you. And, just in case we can't, escape through the Floo. Come along, Cho."

"Maybe I should stay here with Penny…"

"No you should not! Your father and I may need your help. Get on!"

Cho gave Penelope's hand a quick squeeze, then dashed out of the parlour and down the stairs, with her mother behind her.

Two people, a witch and a wizard, had opened the door and stood just inside the house. They had tracked snow in on their boots and wore heavy cloaks against the cold.

Cho stared at the two intruders. She hardly noticed that her mother had something in her arms.

"I assure you," Cho's father said calmly and pleasantly, "that there's no Muggle-born in this family."

"Don't take us for fools," the wizard said. He was middle-aged, with a carefully-trimmed beard that was showing touches of gray. "I never said the Mudblood was in your family; just in your home."

"Perhaps you'd care for some food," Lotus offered, as calm and pleasant as her husband. "We've made quite a bit for the holidays."

"Enough!" the wizard barked, as he threw back his cloak and rolled up his left sleeve, revealing the Dark Mark branded into his arm. "We'll just run you all in. The Ministry can sort you out in a few days. Not the most pleasant way to begin the New Year, but you've brought it on yourselves by harbouring a fugitive." The wizard was going to touch the Dark Mark.

"Wait!" Lotus said. "At least we can see the year out with some music." Cho now recognized that her mother was holding the sheng that usually hung on the wall. Before the Ministry wizards could move again, Lotus put the sheng to her lips and blew.

At first Cho thought it sounded strange, like a dozen mouth-organs being blown all at once. Then Cho heard the notes begin to thicken; that was the only way she could describe it later. The sound became somehow tangible and powerful. Without seeing how it happened, the music turned into small whirlwinds that surrounded the Ministry intruders, paralyzing them, lifting them up off the floor.

Cho's father Xiemin told his daughter, "Out back." He immediately ran upstairs and took the wooden sword off of the wall, then strode to the kitchen, leaving his daughter to catch up. All the while, Lotus was blowing on the sheng; she seemed never to stop for breath.

The pair from the Ministry were carried through the house by their personal tornados, out through the back door and unceremoniously dropped among the dustbins. The man ignored his witch companion and pulled out his wand. "You've just signed your death sentence."

Xiemin didn't say a word; instead, he began waving the wooden sword through the air in intricate patterns, almost like a dance. As soon as he started moving, though, the pair from the Ministry again stood still on the spot.

As soon as Xiemin stopped moving, the Ministry wizards' heads fell off their necks. Their bodies, now quartered, fell in large bloody chunks onto the snowy ground.

Cho was the first to move. "Daddy, you and mummy go upstairs to the parlour. Don't look down here, and don't ask me what I'm about to do. Go; now!" Cho stood by the dustbins, waiting until her father was inside.

She wanted to do a better job of it, but time and circumstances didn't permit. Without words and without a wand, she moved the dustbins into the alley away from the back garden, then levitated the pieces of the dead wizard and witch into a dustbin.

"Incendio."

The remains of the corpses caught fire, and were cremated in a matter of seconds. But there were still some long bones that would indicate a body had been burned.

"Incendio."

Again and again; five times Cho burned the remains of the two Ministry Death Eaters until they were reduced to a handful of ash, which the wind then picked up and blew off into the night sky, never to be found. Then she repeatedly used the Scourgify cleaning charm to eliminate all traces of blood on the ground near the dustbins.

With that job done, Cho fell forward grabbing the rim of the nearest dustbin, and vomited into it. The bile burned her throat, as her tears burned her eyes.

Failure, she cursed herself; I'm a failure. Daddy told me I had to be ready to kill Death Eaters, but I couldn't do it just now; I couldn't. Daddy was there this time, but what about next time; what happens when it's just me? What makes me think I can do it?

Cho wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her gown. It probably didn't help, but she didn't care. I have to get away from here, she thought, trembling but not from the cold. I have to sort this all out, but not here. If I stay here and the Ministry comes nosing about, I'd probably give the whole game away.

A few minutes later, a more composed Cho went up to the parlour where Penelope was telling the Changs about her Muggle parents, on the faculty at Cambridge. "Penelope and I had better leave," Cho announced.

"Just like that?" her father asked.

"Even though it's a holiday, we don't know when the Ministry will miss those two, or when they'd send someone around looking for them. This may be the best time for Penelope to find a safer hiding place."

"Did you recognize them, then?" Penelope asked.

"Please don't ask me that, any of you," Cho said. "There shouldn't be anything they can get by Veritaserum or Dementor or any other way."

There was a minute's pause, as the others in the room looked at Cho, trying to figure out why she was acting so strangely. Finally, Lotus said, "You'll do what you think best, of course."

Cho took Penelope's hand and pulled her to her feet. As they went downstairs, Cho's father spoke up. "Don't do anything foolish now. Stop and think; we have our own resources for dealing with things."

"I know you do," Cho nodded, even though in her heart she doubted that even her parents understood what the Ministry was capable of. She started to say something else, then stopped and hustled Penelope out the back door and into the alley

xxx

To be continued in part 5, wherein Cho meets up with old friends and decides on a course of action…


	5. Chapter 5

CHO CHANG'S EIGHTH YEAR

By monkeymouse

NB: JKRowling built the Potterverse; I'm just redecorating one of the rooms. And one of the great things about JKR telling the story from Harry's point of view is that stuff could be happening all over the wizarding world that Harry isn't aware of.

Rated: PG-13

Spoilers: Everything

xxx

5. Auld Lang Syne

xxx

The snow had started falling again when Cho took Penelope out of the house, down Diagon Alley, and out into Muggle London. Between the holiday and the rotten weather, Cho knew that they had almost no chance of hailing a taxi. Even if they did, she was nervous about who might be driving.

Mercifully, they hadn't far to go. Diagon Alley was within sound of St. James' cathedral bells and (on the worst days) within smell of the Thames, but Cho led Penelope just a few streets north to the West End. She went straight to a block of flats on Bolsover Street, stopped at an unmarked door, and knocked. Nothing happened at first. Cho knocked again.

"Maybe they're out celebrating," Penelope suggested.

"No, she would have mentioned it." Cho waited another minute as the snow kept falling, then raised her voice: "Happy New Year from the Captain!"

The door opened at once, although the corridor was dark and whoever opened the door stood behind it. "Get your arses in here, then," said a voice.

Once they were inside, a light came on. The apartment belonged to another Ravenclaw girl, Diana Fairweather. "Well!" Diana seemed mad at Cho, with her hands on her hips. "It's not as if you live three counties over; you could have visited before the year ended."

Cho stammered a bit, trying to reply, but Diana broke into a grin, grabbed Cho by the shoulders and kissed her on both cheeks. "Well, now you're here, but," she nodded toward Penelope, "you bring this troll's ear in with you."

"Sorry about that," Cho said, "but it was rather an emergency and I didn't dare try to reach you in advance."

"Well, hear all about it. Penelope, it's great to see you after all these years. I suppose we have you to thank for this reunion."

"In a manner of speaking," she smiled weakly.

"If you don't mind, there's a room upstairs: no windows, no hearth, no way for anyone to get in. Safe enough for a party, I reckon."

xxx

The three young women went to what seemed to be a guest bedroom. Diana Spelled up some butterbeer and Muggle beer. Cho took the former, explaining that she had to be able to concentrate.

"On what?" Diana asked.

"It's why Penelope's here. She came by my house; it's not my place to say why."

"I'll tell you, but not right now," Penelope said, as she took a small sip of beer.

"I suppose I can begin in the middle. While we were all talking, the door bursts open, and it's a couple of Death Eaters from the Ministry. They tried to take Penelope away, but my father made short work of them. Still, it was too dangerous for her to stay there. Someone else from the Ministry might come round looking."

"How would they know where?" Diana asked.

"Because," Cho stopped talking and started shivering. She put up one hand, as if to say, Leave me alone for a minute. Then she took a few deep breaths and calmed down. "Because I recognized them."

"From where, Hogwarts?"

"In a manner of speaking. I spent five years looking at their picture every single day. Diana, they were, well, they were the Fogglys; Libby's parents."

"You're still not working that turnip patch, are ye?" Diana said.

"Oh, they were real enough," Penelope said. "They tried to arrest me, for…"

"No need to say it," Diana interrupted. "I get it."

"But it was really them. I slept in the same dorm room as Libby, and she had a photo of them by her bed. I saw it every day for five years."

"Five?" Penelope asked.

Diana nodded in Cho's direction. "Right after the Tournament, Libby disappears. This one claimed she spoke with her."

"I did," Cho said, looking down at her drink. "This time, they rolled up their sleeves and showed off the Dark Mark. Libby showed me hers as well before she left. It was the time that You Know Who came back, so she said she was leaving Hogwarts to be with her parents."

After a minute's silence, Diana spoke up. "I still can't believe it. If they were Dark and all, what are you doing walking about instead of pushing up daisies?"

"My parents used Chinese magic on them. They had no idea what it was and couldn't counter it."

"What happened?"

Cho waited before speaking again. "I won't tell you. That way, if they trace us here, you can't tell anything."

"Meanwhile, I'm left holding onto the kit."

"Diana, just until morning, please. They might not yet be missed."

Penelope took a long draw on her beer. "This is all my fault. I can get out of it in the morning. It's just that my family's out of the country until then."

"No offense," Diana started, "but how can your Muggles stand up to…"

"Oh, I can cast the proper spells, right enough," she said. "It would just be easier if we were home." For Penelope Clearwater, "home" meant Cambridge University, where her Muggle parents were on the faculty.

"When are they getting in?"

"Around ten. There's always so much activity at Heathrow that we can get past the Death Eaters."

"And you're not worried about Snatchers, then," Diana asked.

Cho interrupted: "What are Snatchers?"

"Blimey, you've been under a rock or something. Well, the Ministry's let Magical Law Enforcement go completely to Hell, and a few nasties from Knockturn Alley have taken to kidnapping witches and wizards for fun and profit."

"Sometimes worse, from what I've heard," Penelope added with a shudder.

Diana went on: "They single out Muggle-borns because they know Minister Thickhead won't make a peep. They tried a couple of half-and-halfs…"

"Not you, I hope," Cho interrupted.

"Actually, I wish they'd muck about with me. Then they'd have to answer to my dear old dad. We halfsies are where their daft worship of Purebloods falls apart."

"Really? Wouldn't they get singled out as Blood Traitors?"

Diana looked at Cho curiously. "You have been under a rock. Well, they started to go that way at first, but a lot of Pureblood families have halfsies buried down in the family tree, and it's no fun picking on someone who's actually got some pull with the Ministry. To pretend the whole blood thing means anything, they have to create privilege, even if it chuffs them to do it. So they leave the halfsies be and call it a draw. They know nobody will protect the Muggleborns."

Cho looked at Penelope, and knew exactly what she was thinking. "It just shows that your blood's a thousand times better than his."

"Excuse me," Diana said, "but I seem to have left the password to this conversation in my other pants. Now, what are you on about?"

Penelope sighed. "Percy Weasley."

xxx

From there the talk went to boys and away from the Ministry. Diana didn't have a steady, and Penelope still couldn't let go of Percy, even though he seemed to have finally turned his back on her.

"For what it's worth," Diana was saying, "I don't know how much of that was really Percy talking. When's the last time you spoke with Percy's mum?"

"Used to do it all the time," Penelope sighed. "When Percy was refusing to see me, his mum would promise to get my letters to him. Of course, now I wonder if she ever did."

"Well, right now, Percy's her best chance, isn't he?"

"Best chance? For what?" Cho blurted out, a bit too loudly.

"Diana," Penelope began, "you don't mean…"

"I mean she's getting on and can't have no more nippers of her own. She wants to be Nana Weasley right quick, which won't be happenin' if she's seeing the sights of Azkaban. Am I right, Penny?"

Penny looked down at the bottle in her hands, and didn't say anything.

"I don't really know the Weasleys," Cho said tentatively. "I mean, I know what I've heard from Penelope…"

"Same here, and what I've heard is that Arthur Weasley has a big red target painted on his back. He's in Muggle Artifacts, which is a no-glamour portfolio; he's going to rise so high and no higher. Which is why Percy is suddenly marrying a Pureblood: to advance the family fortunes. It's clear his dad is in over his head."

Penelope shook her head. "There has to be some other way."

"Well, then, let's call the roll. Which one's the oldest?"

"Bill. Works for Gringotts; handles the magic, not the money. Wait; I suppose he's married now."

"To anyone we know?"

"Of all people, the Beauxbatons champion, Fleur Delacourt."

"Stop having us on, Cho," Diana chuckled.

"No, it's truth. It was in the Prophet; surprised me, too, but Luna confirmed it."

"Well, I wouldn't say much about Lovegood; that whole clan is a bit daft. Anyway, Molly Weasley won't be cooking much in that cauldron."

"It isn't really up to her, Diana, is it?"

"Think, Penelope; she's part veela. That makes her just as much a Magical Creature to the Ministry as one of Charlie's dragons. Not much hope there."

Penelope sniffled. "Next would be Charlie. Rather burly and handsome-built."

"And supposed to be a fair Seeker in his day," Cho added.

"Leave it to Captain Chang to remember that bit," Diana smiled. "But does he have a bird in the hand?"

"Only the kind with four claws and scales. He seems to prefer dragons to people."

"Who's next in the lineup?"

"Percy's next; leave him out of account. Then who?"

"The twins."

The word "Beaters" was out of Cho's mouth before she could stop herself. The other girls smiled at her as she went on: "But I understand one of them is seeing a Gryffindor Chaser, Angelina Johnson. Don't ask me which one's seeing her, though."

"You see where this is going, eh?" Diana asked rhetorically. "There's not gonna be a lot of ginger in the next century, is there, what with Bill and the veela, and Johnson with the twin. Who does that leave?"

"Ron, the Gryffindor Keeper. Last year he seemed to be having a bit with Lavender Brown, but that fell apart and he's probably back with…"

Diana raised one eyebrow. "Don't stop now, Cho."

"With Granger the Muggle-born."

"Bull's eye just got a little redder, I think."

"And the youngest is the only girl in the bunch, Ginny." Cho fell silent.

Penelope had to dip her head to try to look Cho in the eye; they both knew it was foolish. Penelope waited until Cho cracked a smile to ask, "What's the problem?"

"Nothing as big as yours," Cho smiled more broadly. "I just have this, well, interest…"

"In Harry Potter," Diana interrupted, "and you've done your usual splendid job of keeping it hidden. About as well as Harry disguised how he felt about you. You two did everything but put up placards in Diagon Alley."

"You did have a few months together," Penelope said to Cho softly. "If you don't mind my asking, how did it compare with Cedric?"

Cho's collar suddenly felt tight, but she didn't want to adjust it. "Honestly, that would be comparing honeybees to hippogriffs. And I have no idea about what would have happened if Cedric lived. Things are as they are. But I miss Harry," Cho sighed. "I miss him terribly."

"Yeah, well, last spring he moved on to Ginny, and you can bet Mama Weasley is going to make that the feather in her cap."

"Not as long as he's Undesirable Number One," Penelope replied. "Besides, what business is it of hers?"

Diana grabbed another bottle of beer. "Are you forgettin' she was your ally until Muggleborns got put on a list?" She opened the bottle, but spilled some on the rug. "Oh damn. Scourgifry."

The wet spot caught fire. Amid much laughter they finally put out the fire, repaired the rug and cleaned the mess. But by then it was three a.m. They all agreed that they needed some sleep.

"Wait," Cho said. "Shouldn't one of us keep watch?"

"No need," Diana said, her voice a bit slurred. "My da put wards around this whole apartment block. It would take the Ministry's worst wizards a day to undo them. Let's just kip it now, then get Penelope to Heathrow."

xxx

To be continued in part 6, wherein Cho becomes a Healer with only one patient…


	6. Chapter 6

CHO CHANG'S EIGHTH YEAR

By monkeymouse

NB: JKRowling built the Potterverse; I'm just redecorating one of the rooms. And one of the great things about JKR telling the story from Harry's point of view is that stuff could be happening all over the wizarding world that Harry isn't aware of.

Rated: PG-13

Spoilers: Everything

xxx

6. Detour

xxx

Sleep filled Cho's brain like a fog in the Forbidden Forest. She couldn't move; she heard words, but couldn't tell what they were or who spoke them. It wasn't clear until she heard a clattering sound and then…

"BUGGER!"

She remembered; she and Penelope Clearwater had gone to see Diana Fairweather, another Ravenclaw girl from Cho's year at Hogwarts. They had gone to see in the New Year, but also to hide out in case Ministry wizards came looking for the ones who tried to arrest Penelope. They would never be found, though.

"Right, ladies, we're getting up and getting out! Wakey wakey!"

"What's wrong," Penelope asked. They were supposed to meet her parents at Heathrow around noon; they were coming home from attending an academic conference in America.

"Nothing's wrong, really," Diana answered. "I just checked with Heathrow; your folks's plane caught a favourable wind and is going to land two or three hours ahead of schedule. So we don't have the luxury of waiting."

"Is it, well, safe?" Cho asked nervously.

"Probably. I mean, I've got a plan to get us to Heathrow that's loopy enough, nobody will follow us. But we still have to get going."

Cho glanced at a clock on the wall; it was just past seven. "Diana, have you done this before?"

"Penelope and I have both taken this little trip. Just stay on your toes."

The three bundled up against the winter cold; only their eyes could be seen in the dim light of dawn as they stepped out into Bolsover Street. A sharp cold wind hit them as soon as they emerged. Diana started walking south, and the others followed. They set a brisk pace, which kept the cold off, but they hadn't gone two blocks before Diana stopped them.

"I know him," she said, pointing to a taxi idling in front of a coffee shop. The girls quick-marched to it, and Diana rapped on the window. The driver was behind the wheel, sipping at a cup of coffee; he clearly wasn't engaged, but waved Diana and the others into the cab.

"Happy New Year, Danny," Diana said once she closed the door.

"Same to you ladies," Danny said, not turning around but looking in his mirror and smiling with his eyes. "Just stopped for a cuppa and a baggin. Been on since last night but it's been quiet. Are you goin' to a party or coming from one?"

"In between, actually." Diana fished some Muggle money out of her coat pocket and dropped the bills onto the front seat. "No rush, but we're going to Oxford Circus Station."

The driver looked at the bills. "Decided to be a big tipper this year?"

"Makes up for helping me out last year."

"Right, then." Danny pocketed the bills. "Off to the tube."

The cab ride wasn't too long, but the cold would have made it seem worse if they'd walked. In no time they were at Oxford Circus Station. Even though it was early on New Year's Day, there was the usual crowd entering and leaving.

"Good luck to you, then," Diana said as she opened the door.

"Likewise, ladies."

"Stay close, Cho," Diana said in a low voice as they entered the building. They didn't look back at the cab as it pulled away, nor did they notice a man reading a newspaper suddenly stop and follow them in.

xxx

Three different Underground lines converge at Oxford Circus; the three witches made for the Bakerloo line and took the next train heading north.

"Don't get too comfortable," Penelope warned Cho. "We change trains in no time."

Cho wasn't sure what there was to worry about. It was unlikely that anyone from the Ministry was hanging about Oxford Circle on the off chance that witches and wizards would be riding … And yet, Cho thought, here we are.

Penelope was right; it was only a few minutes until the train arrived at Paddington station. The doors opened, passengers entered and exited the car; and then just before the doors started to close again, Penelope grabbed Cho's hand, whispered "Now," and pulled her up and onto the platform. Diana was already moving with them.

Cho wondered about whether this was necessary—until she looked back at the closed door of their car as it pulled away from the station. There was a middle-aged man with a long dark beard standing at the door, glowering angrily at the three witches.

"You don't think," Cho began.

"We figure it out later. Come on," Diana said, as the girls moved quickly through the tunnel connecting the Bakerloo, Circle District and Hammersmith lines. Cho let herself be carried along by her friends as the boarded a southbound Hammersmith train and rode it to the end of the line, after which they waited for the Heathrow Express.

"We go to Terminal 3," Penelope said as they waited. "That's where I'll meet my parents."

"This is quite a test," Cho replied, looking almost in spite of herself at the other people on the platform. Most wizarding people disguised as Muggles usually give themselves away by not getting the look right. This time, however, Cho realized she couldn't be sure. Some Muggles riding the early morning Underground in party attire looked very wizardish.

They got onto the Express, which this morning had nothing but standing room, and very little of that. All of London seemed to be meeting someone at Heathrow. The three witches were so busy trying not to get separated by the crowd milling around them that they almost missed the stop at Terminal 3. Diana grabbed one of Cho's arms and pulled her toward the car door.

Someone else had hold of her other arm.

Cho tried to move out of the car, but the man who had her arm wouldn't let her budge. The man wore a blue wool coat, a watchcap, and a pin on his jacket.

A Puddlemere United Quidditch pin.

Cho's heart sank. This was a Ministry wizard, and he wasn't about to let go of her. Diana was trying to pull her out of the car, but she couldn't move, and she didn't know why. It must have been some sort of Imperius, but Cho couldn't counter it. All Cho could do is stare at the door, which hadn't yet closed, but would surely close any second…

Suddenly, the wizard let go of Cho's arm. Diana jerked her out onto the platform, and the three of them ran to the terminal.

Cho began to ask, "What just…"

"Later," Penelope said. "Stay close to me, and follow my lead."

Cho felt what she could only describe later as a tugging at her brain. She looked back; the wizard with the Puddlemere pin was trying to get through the crowd. He was trying to cast a spell on Cho again, but wasn't having much luck with all the unintentional interference.

"But, Penny," Cho tried again, "once we're in the terminal…"

"We'll be safe as if we were in Ravenclaw. Just play along."

Before Cho could wonder what that meant, they took a sudden turn, shoved between groups of people, and Penny grabbed onto a man wearing the uniform of Heathrow Security.

"You've got to stop that man, officer!" Penny shouted. "He's an evil wizard and he's trying to enslave us!"

Cho, picking up on Penny's plan, looked at the officer (actually a little past him) and said, "He got inside my brain!"

The wizard stopped a few feet away, waiting to see what would happen next.

The security officer clearly didn't believe a word of it, but he looked over his shoulder at the wizard and said, "Sir, we need to get this sorted out."

"No!" Diana interrupted, a little too loudly. "It's just a bit too much partying. I can settle these two down."

"Whatever you say," the officer said. He turned to look at the man, but now he was nowhere to be seen. Diana, meanwhile, had pushed Penny and Cho into a coffee bar next to the Terminal Security post.

Two minutes and three coffees later, Penny asked the others, "How are you now? You were in trouble back there."

"I don't know how he knew," Cho shuddered, "but I think he had some sort of Imperius on me."

"That's not good," Diana shook her head. "Can you fight that?"

"I think so; he just caught me off guard."

Like this, Sunshine?

It was the wizard; it had to be. He was back inside Cho's head.

Leave me alone!

Not much chance of that. Now, if you want to see any more of the New Year, you'll cooperate…

Cho didn't know why she did what she did next. She didn't have her flute, but she remembered her exercises, playing and sustaining a single note. She remembered, concentrating with all her powers on the last time she sounded a note on the flute: feeling the carefully controlled breath, hearing the base note and the higher harmonics, sustaining the note for a full thirty seconds and letting that sound crowd everything else out of her consciousness. By the time Cho came to the end of the note, she could feel it: the wizard was gone.

Cho had closed her eyes; when she opened them again, Diana and Penny were staring at her. "So, how are things, then?" Diana asked.

Cho smiled rather weakly. "I think he got discouraged and left. Still, even though there's a Security Officer next door, he's still a Muggle and we can't count on him too much. We'd better get going."

"That's why I wanted to come here first," Penny said. "There'll be hundreds of people at the arrival gate.

Penny was right; between the crowd deplaning and the friends and family there to meet them, the mob was even worse than on the Underground. Here, however, the mood was completely different. The passengers on the train were a mixture of stress, frustration, worry, giddiness, and a dozen other emotions. Here, the joy was as thick as pudding as friends and families met their loved ones. This level of happiness could even defeat Dementors; the wizard from the Ministry wouldn't be able to stand it.

It took about thirty minutes for the Professors Clearwater to get out of Customs. Penny was never so pleased to see her parents; it surprised even them.

"Now we get to work off all that wonderful airline food," Penny's father joked, "by taking all these bags to Long Term Parking."

"You're welcome to join us, of course," Penny's mother said to Cho and Diana.

"Well, I won't say no," Diana said. "Cho?"

"Sorry, but I'll have to leave you, then," Cho said.

"Are you sure?"

"Quite sure, Diana. Nothing to worry about." Actually there was. Cho was hoping that, if a Ministry wizard was still shadowing them, she could lead him away from Penny and her parents. After some quickly exchanged New Year's greetings and a general invitation to visit Cambridge for dinner in the near future, Cho left the others.

She didn't want to retrace her steps, so she took a shuttle from Terminal 3 to Terminal 4, where she could get the Piccadilly Line and take it directly to Kings Cross Station. This time, she tried to keep aware of everyone and everything around her, while also ready to defend herself against any further spells.

xxx

Even though it was New Year's Day, and not a day when the Hogwarts Express normally returned from the Christmas Holidays, the new regime in the Ministry had changed a lot of things. For one, they tried to avoid treating Muggle holidays as anything special. The old Ministry approach was to use the holidays to blend in with Muggle society. Voldemort's intention, however, was to sever all ties between the wizarding world and the Muggles. In addition, Hogwarts under Severus Snape had increased the number and length of classes during the schooldays, even if the content of the lessons had grown rather thin. By elevating some forms of magic over others, the children were actually learning less magic than before. After the ouster of Dolores Umbridge, the Ministry decided that students—even the Purebloods—shouldn't be taught too much too soon.

Cho, who had done her seven years under Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, wasn't worried. Between her years at Hogwarts and her Chinese studies, she felt she had magical knowledge equal to any student and even some faculty. However, it wasn't until she slipped through the barrier to Platform 9 ¾ that she had to face it. She had no plan. She wanted to go there to help, but had no idea what she could contribute. She was going to Hogwarts to hide from the Ministry, yet almost everyone there knew her, and none of them was expecting her.

She was about to give it all up as a foolish idea and go home to Diagon Alley when she heard a voice shouting from further down the platform:

"I WON'T GO! I WON'T! YOU CAN'T MAKE ME!"

Cho's heart leapt when she realized she recognized the voice. It belonged to Sara Anand, a Seeker in training Cho put on the Ravenclaw team when Sara was still a First Year. Sara was the younger sister Cho never had.

Luckily, Cho was near the luggage van, she positioned herself between two tall piles of luggage, and listened for Sara's footsteps. When they grew close, timing it very carefully, she waited until Sara was running past the gap. She reached out, grabbed Sara's robes, and pulled her in; like getting a Snitch, she thought.

Sara started to struggle, then recognized Cho. She started to speak; Cho put a finger to her lips and led Sara closer to the wall.

Not until Cho put down her finger did Sara speak, and then in a whisper. She's very quick on the pickup, Cho smiled.

"Captain Chang! What's all this, then?"

"First, tell me about Hogwarts. How much have things changed there?"

"Too much. It's more prison than school, but some people put up a fight. Still, it's pretty bad."

"I heard you saying you didn't want to go back."

"What? No; my mum wanted me to stay home. She pulled me off the train, and I wanted to go back. I wanted to be part of it all."

"Part of what all?"

"Dumbledore's Army."

Cho's heart felt as if it had been kicked by a dragon. Had they actually gotten back together?

Sara went on: "Just a handful of students who used to be in it, mind you. Luna Lovegood from Ravenclaw, and Terry Boot, Anthony Goldstein and Michael Corner. Although we all have to live up to the Gryffindors; you know what that's like."

Cho nodded, her mind racing. "Sara, I know you want to be there, but tell me; how dangerous has it become?"

"Oh, horribly dangerous. The way that Snape and the Carrows run the school now, it's a surprise they haven't killed anyone yet, although I suspect they've come close. They say you used to be in the Army, right? What was it like?"

"I'd like to make a deal with you. I'm not going to be long at Hogwarts. If you give me your ticket, I'll find out what I need to know at Hogwarts, then come back for the Easter break. Then we can spend a whole day together, and I can tell you about the Army. Would you mind awfully if your mother caught you this time?"

"Well, when you put it that way," Sara smiled. She started pulling things out of her coat pocket and thrusting them at Cho. "Here's the ticket, and a vial of Polyjuice; absolutely everyone's got some at Hogwarts now. And take this comb; it's got some of my hair in it."

Cho almost laughed in spite of herself. "You've given this a lot of thought in just a few seconds."

"The mark of a good Seeker, I hope," Sara smiled again at Cho.

"Right. See you in a few weeks."

Sara worked her way out from between the luggage, back onto the platform, and was loudly caught by her mother.

This is wrong, she thought, as she ducked into the women's lavatory, mixed up the potion, drank it, and turned into a slightly shorter, beautiful brown-skinned witch with hair hanging well down her back. Some of the students seem to think this is all fun. I'm afraid it won't be.

xxx

To be continued in part 7, wherein Cho gets a patient …


	7. Chapter 7

CHO CHANG'S EIGHTH YEAR

By monkeymouse

NB: JKRowling built the Potterverse; I'm just redecorating one of the rooms. And one of the great things about JKR telling the story from Harry's point of view is that stuff could be happening all over the wizarding world that Harry isn't aware of.

Rated: PG-13

Spoilers: Everything

xxx

7. Return

xxx

Cho found an empty compartment, which was no surprise since fewer students went home for the holidays this year than in the past. She hoped to be alone for most of the trip, but after a few minutes Orla Quirke walked into the compartment. She was a Fourth-Year Ravenclaw who had tried out for the Quidditch team the year before.

Cho felt trapped for the moment, but she figured that she could bluff her way through a general conversation for a few minutes, then excuse herself and move to another part of the train. She didn't have much choice.

"So how were your holidays?" Orla asked.

"Pretty quiet, just the family mostly." Cho had no idea how Sara Anand's family had spent the holidays, but hoped that this sounded convincing. "How about you?"

"Well, you can pretty much imagine, right?"

That wasn't much help. "Well, as I said, we didn't even get the Prophet most days. The weather was so awful."

The train jerked forward and began its hours-long journey to Hogsmeade. Orla looked at Sara, opened the trunk on the seat beside her, pulled out her wand, and aimed it at Cho. "Who are you, really?"

Cho half-smiled. "What gave me away, then?"

"Mainly your not mentioning that the Anand family spend a weekend at our house because of some sort of infestation in theirs. We were all in close quarters; the real Sara would have known that."

"My bad luck. Orla, I'm Cho Chang."

Orla didn't lower her wand. "What happened to Sara?"

"She tried to sneak onto the Express, but I convinced her to let her mother find her. I need to get out of London for a while."

"And you couldn't have just bought a ticket?"

"I couldn't risk having anyone know it's me. Something happened in Diagon Alley. That's really all I can tell you now."

"Something involving the Ministry?"

"Yes; please don't ask for more details."

Orla set her wand on her lap. "How are you going to deal with security?"

"Has Hogwarts gone beyond passwords?"

"Literally. We got to school in September, and it was as if the school itself grew new security layers around the Houses; to protect the students, y'see. I don't know how it knew to do that, but it did."

"You don't think the new Headmaster did it?"

"Absolutely not. For one thing, the changes keep him out, too. He has access to Slytherin, Dumbledore's old office, the Potions dungeon, and that's about it. The Carrows can get into the common areas, but not much more."

"Maybe you'd better tell me about the Carrows."

"A wizard named Amycus and his sister Alecto. Both are very nasty. Amycus teaches Dark Arts."

"I'm surprised they still want students to defend themselves."

"You weren't listening. He teaches Dark Arts. He expects students to cast Unforgivables."

"Good Lord, that's worse than I thought."

"Alecto isn't much better. She's there to teach Muggle Studies, which is just a lot of anti-Muggle toss. The same stuff Umbitch was shoveling two years ago."

"I take it you don't approve."

"I take it you haven't heard that the Army is back together."

"WHAT?"

They both looked quickly at the compartment door; the curtains were still open, but the corridor seemed to be empty. "You've got to watch that," Orla said. "The Army is a sore point with Snape and the Carrows. They probably have orders from the Ministry to put it down."

"Is, erm, someone still teaching Defense to the students?"

"If by 'someone' you mean Potter, no chance. It's all he's worth if he sets foot back in Hogwarts now. No, the Army has moved on to 'direct action', as they put it."

"What does that mean?"

"Little acts of disrespect and resistance. No serious vandalism and nothing like what the Weasley twins did on their way out the door, but small things."

"For safety sake, I'm not going to ask if you're in the Army…"

"Well, I'm not, although Ravenclaw is well represented. Still, it's the Gryffindors who pull most of the stunts and take the risks, seems like."

"How do you know who's in the Army if you're not?"

"After school began you could figure it out. Some students had to do repeated detention, or worse, and a lot of them were in Potter's old crowd. Or somebody would show up to class with a face full of bruises. You could figure out who'd done it and why."

"Wait! Snape is beating students?"

"Not Snape, I don't think. He can shake you up a treat, but that's about all. The Carrows are much worse. Only thing that keeps them in bounds is if the student is a half-and-half or a Pureblood. But Merlin help the Muggle-born. There aren't even supposed to be any at Hogwarts any more, but they keep finding them out."

Just then they heard the witch with the trolley coming. Cho regretted not having even the price of a pasty, but Orla saw Cho searching her pockets and told her, "Just curl up at the end of the seat and pretend you're asleep. I'll pay for your lunch."

"That's too much to ask."

Orla pulled her conical witch's hat out of her trunk; since her head size was slightly bigger than Cho's it completely covered her face. "Glad to do it. You're still something of a celebrity in Ravenclaw. Now kip it; the Polyjuice should be wearing off soon."

Cho realized that it was almost an hour since she took the potion, so she pretended to sleep while Orla bought sandwiches from the trolley. When it had moved on, Orla drew the curtains of the compartment.

Cho took off her hat; she now looked like herself again. "I'm beginning to think this was a bad idea."

"Not if you can do one thing."

"What?"

"Look around Hogwarts. See what the old place has become under the Ministry. Then go back and tell the parents. Owls are searched, coded messages are decoded, the Floo is monitored, and every attempt to tell the truth is sussed out. The Ministry really wants to paint its own picture of Hogwarts. Don't let them get away with it."

Cho didn't hesitate to answer, "I swear it—on my life."

xxx

Cho didn't know how long her Polyjuice would have to last, so she was glad to be able to remain herself in the compartment. Besides, only a few students knocked on the door looking for Orla, or just for something different. Cho covered her face with her hat and pretended to sleep, except when Terry Boot, who was now a Prefect, knocked on the door.

"Hullo, Orla," Terry said as he quickly entered the compartment and shut the door. "Some of the younger Slytherins are messing about with other students, and wouldn't mind me when I tried to stop it." He sat heavily on the seat opposite Cho's. "Would Sleeping Beauty there mind if I rested here for a minute?"

"She wouldn't mind at all," Cho said, smiling at Terry as she lifted the hat.

Terry looked first stunned, then fearful. "Are you mad, woman? You're out of Hogwarts; what are you going back for?"

"I forgot my scales in the Potions dungeon. Terry, I can't tell you why, but it seems more and more that it's something I have to do. Is it true the Army is back?"

"Not so you'd recognize it. The ones in charge aren't here, which is odd but understandable. I mean, this is the N.E.W.T. year for Harry, Hermione and Ron, but they seem to be doing the Grand Tour. Staying one step ahead of You Know Who, I expect."

"So who's in charge?"

"Pride of place goes to Neville Longbottom, if you can believe that. He's really come into his own, and so has Luna Lovegood. Still mad as a March hare, of course, but she hasn't been afraid to get out there and do things. And Ginny Weasley."

The sandwich Cho had eaten started pounding on the walls of her stomach. After their argument Harry had stopped seeing Cho, but hadn't been seen with any other girl. Not that there weren't lots of willing candidates, but Harry stayed alone—until the day Cho walked in on Harry and Ginny snogging in the grass near the lake. She didn't need to be reminded of that just now.

"Orla started to tell me about the new security."

"No fear," Terry smiled. "I expect we can get you around that easy-peasy. It's just that, for now, you're needed outside of Ravenclaw House. Would you be willing?"

"For the Army?" Cho smiled. "Anything."

xxx

"How has Professor Flitwick been during all this?"

Even though the curtains were drawn and the lamps lit—since it was hours after sunset and the Express would arrive at Hogsmeade within the hour—Terry glanced yet again at the door to the compartment. "Officially, he's supposed to follow Snape's lead and advise us against supporting the Army. Unofficially, well, it's amazing how well he's able to change the subject if the topic gets round to the Army. He's been able to keep Snape at wand's length all these months. I'm sure he's spoken with Sprout and McGonagall."

"That leaves Slytherin. Snape can't still be Head of House as well as Headmaster."

Orla spoke up; "No, he let that honour go to Slughorn, who's still teaching Potions as well. And I'm not sure, but I think even Slughorn looks down his nose at the Carrows."

"Slug would look down his nose at Merlin himself," Terry smiled, "if he thought the man's robes were crooked."

"But, if something happened, something changed, could we count on Slughorn?"

"To do the right deed for the wrong reason? Horace Slughorn's greater good has always been Horace Slughorn. But he might support the students against the Ministry, if it came to that. He'd favour Slytherin, of course, but, truth to tell, he's dim rather than evil."

The train gave a jolt; they were slowing down and would be at the station in a few minutes.

"Drink up, Cho," Orla said, "and stick with Terry for now. And come by Ravenclaw when you can. We'd love to see someone again who knows what's happening. All we get is Potterwatch."

"Get what?"

"The wireless program," Terry said. "You don't know?"

"We hardly ever listen to the WWN."

"You are in for an education, then."

Cho knew she'd have to sort it out later. She drank the Polyjuice, and, when the door opened the seat was again occupied by Sara Anand.

xxx

Students had always regarded the sledges as one of Hogwarts' nicer features. Used to carry students to and from Hogsmeade Station in the winter months, they seemed to move on their own. Of course, Cho had learned what the older students knew: that they were pulled by Thestrals kept by the school. Cho realized that she could see the Thestrals now: she had watched the Fogglys die at the hands of her father. Was that really the only way to save her oldest friend, the Muggle-born Penelope Clearwater, from being arrested and dragged off to the Ministry and who-knows-what…

The night was nearly pitch-black, and Cho realized that she still couldn't see the Thestrals, and certainly didn't want to see them. Besides, a bitter cold wind was blowing, and the students weren't thinking of the sledges as nice in any way. They just wanted to be out of the weather as soon as possible.

Once she was back in the castle, Cho found a group of Ravenclaw students and tried to hide in the middle of them. This was easy to do since Sara was rather short. However, when they got to Ravenclaw House, Terry Boot grabbed her arm and pulled her aside.

"And where are you off to, then?"

Cho's bad luck; Argus Filch was in the corridor just past the entrance to Ravenclaw.

Terry spoke up: "Miss Anand was telling me on the train that she did her homework early before leaving, but left it in a classroom. I'm just going with her to fetch it, to make sure there's no funny business."

"What's funny is that funny business just seems to follow certain students. If I get it in my head that you're one of those students…"

"No fear, Mister Filch. We'll be up to the Divination classroom and back in a tick."

Filch didn't say anything else, but clearly was thinking something unpleasant. Fortunately, a grating meow was heard down the corridor; Filch's cat Mrs. Norris was complaining about something. He went off to check, and Terry and Cho quick-marched down the hall, heading for the Room of Requirement.

"How much do I need to know about the new passwords?"

"Nothing for now. We need you as a healer; have you done much of that?"

"My O.W.L.s were good and my parents are herbalists. What's this about?"

"The Carrows caught a Ravenclaw writing something rather nasty on the wall of a corridor just a couple of days ago, during the break. Maybe he gave them some cheek into the bargain. All I know is, they beat and cursed him more than usual. He's in a bad way, and we don't dare send him to the hospital wing, and the Carrows don't dare send him back home because he's Pureblood. He's not supposed to be the enemy, y'see."

"You don't mean Madam Pomfrey is in with the Carrows?"

"Not at all. But if she saw what he looked like, she might ask questions that, well, would bring their anger down on her, and we don't need that."

"So what's been done for him?"

"Not much, I'm afraid. We have someone with him now, but you'll have to stay with him twenty-four hours for the first day or two, I expect."

By the time they got to the corridor where the entrance to the Room of Requirement could be found, the door was not only visible but slightly ajar. Still, Terry gave a couple of light knocks on the door, which were returned from within. The door then opened to reveal Anthony Goldstein, another Ravenclaw. Also in the room was a table piled with bottles of herbs, potions, philters, beakers, and other tools of the herbalist. At the far end of the room a figure lay on a cot, face turned to the wall, unconscious.

"Can you help us out then, Sara?"

"She can," Terry interrupted, "but it ain't Sara. It's Captain Chang."

"Really?" Anthony took Cho's hand and shook it vigorously. "Damned glad you could help us out here. We've been able to keep him from getting worse, but we've no idea how to make him better."

"Well, if security is such a problem, I suppose I could be locked in here for a while. By the way, who am I getting locked in with?"

"Michael Corner. One of us will be by sometime tomorrow. Thanks again!" With that, Anthony and Terry were out of the room, and the door vanished.

Michael Corner. The gods had this planned as some kind of a joke, Cho thought. Michael had approached her several times over the years, acting friendly and polite. However, after a few weeks of that, he seemed to be possessed by something neither friendly nor polite. Cho had to use spells on him to make him stop mauling her, but this only made him sour and hostile toward Cho.

Of all the students to be stuck with, Cho sighed to herself. As she approached to get a better look at him, her nose told her one other thing. Michael had soiled himself, and nobody had bothered to clean him up.

If Cho could have left Hogwarts that minute, she would have, despite her promises to help. Couldn't they have told me some of this on the train? Did they really feel they had to trick me into caring for him? What now?

Cho remembered Harry talking about the Room of Requirement. She started walking back and forth in front of the spot where the door had been: I need help. I need a book. A book on how I'm supposed to undress a boy who has been very rude to me, and wash and dry him in a rather intimate place when I really have no interest in him in that line. I know what I must do, but it's dealing with him afterwards that worries me. I really need some guidance.

And then, a slim book rose up out of one of the bookcases and slowly glided through the air, settling at Cho's feet. It was a play by Shakespeare, a Muggle whose name and words were even familiar to the wizarding world. She picked up the book, which was the text of "Henry V," and noticed that a page was bookmarked. She turned to that page, and noticed that the words on one page glowed.

This was the guidance the Room of Requirement had to offer? Cho pondered the words for a while, then realized that she understood their meaning. She just didn't like the idea of it. But she also knew that she, like Michael, had no choice in the matter.

xxx

To be continued in part 8, wherein Cho and Michael listen to Potterwatch and say what needed to be said long ago …


	8. Chapter 8

CHO CHANG'S EIGHTH YEAR

By monkeymouse

NB: JKRowling built the Potterverse; I'm just redecorating one of the rooms. And one of the great things about JKR telling the story from Harry's point of view is that stuff could be happening all over the wizarding world that Harry isn't aware of.

Rated: PG-13

Spoilers: Everything

xxx

8. "We few, we happy few"

xxx

Cho had no way of knowing the time; the Hogwarts bells didn't seem to carry into this version of the Room of Requirement, and anyway it was the dead of night. She delayed the inevitable for a few minutes by throwing together some basic potions. Once she'd done that, realizing she needed to know how badly hurt Michael was and not being able to stall any longer, Cho removed Michael's clothes, washed him, dressed his wounds, then cleaned his clothes, first with a Tergeo then a Scourgify. By the time she had finished, she found, near the door, a tray with covered dishes. It wasn't just food; it was her favourites from her years there, including a steaming bowl of snow-white rice, dressed only with a bit of salt. As Michael was still unconscious, she set to it, made short work of the food, then, when she was carrying the tray back to the door, she heard Michael groan. She put down the tray, then hurried back to Michael, taking a chair that was next to his bed.

Michael, all but smothered by a large down-filled comforter, seemed slow in his movements and even slower in his thoughts. Part of this was Cho's doing; Michael's injuries were so extensive that he might accidentally reinjure himself unless Cho, or rather her sleeping draught, kept him from thrashing about at the wrong time. Gradually, though, his eyelids fluttered, then opened.

"Is this … real?" he managed to say.

"All of it, I'm afraid. Your organs are in pretty bad shape. They're healing as best they can, but it'll take time. You can't move about too much now, or you'll do yourself an injury."

"What day is it?"

"Hard to tell with no windows. January third, I think."

Michael thought about this for a minute. "Well. That's something. Now for the big question: What in the name of Malecrit's cat are you doing back here? You were well away from Hogwarts."

"That's … true."

Michael's eyes narrowed. "Then, you must think that you're safer here than back in London. Are things that bad there?"

"Things seem pretty bad here."

"You have no idea."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Because they make sure nobody has any idea. Has anybody told you?"

"About the Carrows? Terry told me a bit. They did this to you?"

Michael's mouth opened, but he didn't say anything. His eyes widened, and his body started to tremble. Whatever he was remembering was making him panick. Fortunately, Cho had found the ingredients to make up a Draught of Peace and helped him drink some of it. As soon as he did Michael's eyelids closed again.

When he came to, it was night; maybe around midnight. Cho had used the time brewing more potions and rearranging the room, while also getting a quick kip herself. She even moved a large, heavy wardrobe so that it blocked view of Michael from the door. It wasn't much of a defense, but it would buy them some time if the Carrows ever found their way in.

When Michael came awake, Cho stood by his bed. "Michael, I'm so sorry. They didn't tell me the memories were still so strong."

"Well, they didn't tell me you were coming, so I guess we're even." He paused for a few seconds. "Almost."

Here it comes, Cho thought.

"When they brought me here, I may have been half-dead, but I'm sure I wasn't half-dressed. Now my robes are hanging up there, and I'm starkers under this quilt."

"Yes you are. And yes, I did that."

"So this is your revenge for the times I tried…"

"Not another word, Michael. You need to hear me out. I, well, I thought about your behaviour toward me. And, yes, I've thought about revenge from time to time. But not the other night, when I was brought back here. I saw a Ravenclaw, someone I thought of as a friend, in a terrible state, and needing my help."

"But when you had the chance…"

"I had the chance, but I didn't have the choice. I had to tend your injuries, and clean you, and I'd never seen a naked boy before. So I pretended that I had."

"But, how?"

Cho gave a silent "Accio" command, and the book that the Room had provided her floated into her hand, then opened to a page. Michael could read the title: it was, of all things, a Muggle book: "The Life of King Henry the Fifth."

Cho continued: "I had asked the Room for help, you see, and it offered this line from this book."

Michael looked at the words glowing on the page:

We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;  
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me  
Shall be my brother

"The Room was right, of course," Cho smiled. "I pretended that you were the little brother I never had, that I'd changed his nappies scores of times, and that nothing I saw was a surprise to me. It all went rather smoothly."

"And, that was all that …"

"You needed the best care I could give. I couldn't let anything else get in the way."

Michael stared at Cho for a few seconds, as if he couldn't believe what she'd just said. Then he turned away from Cho, burrowing under the comforter and facing the wall. It just took a minute, but Cho noticed a shudder, then a sniffle. It was obvious.

"Michael, why are you crying?"

"Leave me alone."

"I don't think the Room will let me do that. Michael, tell me what's wrong."

"I … I … I've behaved so beastly toward you, Cho, and here you pay me back better than I deserve."

"Nobody deserves ill treatment; especially not a member of the Army. And there were times, not too long ago, when I felt I had no friends left in the world. I wouldn't give you up, no matter how you acted, and certainly now that I know you're sorry."

"Look here," Michael sniffled, still facing the wall, "you're not going to spread it about that I've been crying, are you?"

Cho paused for a minute, then answered: "You know, it's a funny thing. I used to do a lot of crying in this old school. I'm sure a lot of people thought I was daft or, well, who knows what they thought. But now tears are so traumatising to me that a kind of amnesia sets in. In five minutes' time I'm sure I'll forget all about this conversation."

Michael turned his head back a bit to look at her, then turned to face the wall again, and said, very quietly, "Thank you."

"Rest easy now," Cho said. "I have to get some more supplies."

"But, doesn't the Room just, well, supply them?"

"This is something special. I'll tell you about it someday." And with that Cho left the Room of Requirement.

xxx

Taking it completely on faith that the Room would let her back in when she returned, she walked down the corridors as best as she could still remember them. She hadn't had much reason to go where she was headed now: the stores closet of Headmaster Severus Snape.

Whatever time it was, the corridors were completely deserted; not so much as a house-elf or pet cat was stirring. When she'd gotten within twenty yards of the corridor she was seeking, she took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and climbed up the wall right to the vaulted ceiling.

Good thing they dust the place, she thought. Don't think I could do it if it were all spiderwebs.

Silently she picked her way across the ceiling to the stores closet. She was confident that a simple Alohomora would open it if it were locked.

To her surprise, though, just when she was within three feet of it, the door opened.

She didn't know how she stayed on the ceiling, especially when she saw that Snape himself had opened the door. She couldn't imagine why he had been in the stores closet at this very strange hour.

Stranger still; she heard someone else's footsteps approaching. She pressed herself against the ceiling, hoping that nobody would think to look up.

"Aha!" came a loud voice. "Well-met by moonlight, eh Severus?"

It was Horace Slughorn, the Potions Master. Since last year, she had learned that Slughorn and Snape, who were both Slytherins, had known each other for years. Slughorn seemed just a bit too jolly.

"Still ringing in the New Year, I see," Snape said, in his usual cold and disapproving manner.

"But of course, Severus," Slughorn said jovially. "Right on up to Twelfth Night, don't you know. Unfortunately, my private stock is running a bit low, and I just wanted to—"

"You just wanted to help yourself to my stores!"

"Listen, my lad, they're my stores too! The Potions Master has a right to the Potions supplies."

"Not at the present time! You know that the disruptive element amongst the students has resorted to pilfering all manner of things. I was just checking the stores before retiring and I found some boomslang skins missing. And, since you ARE the Potions Master, as you point out, you surely know their principal use."

"No sense fretting about it," Slughorn said, returning to his jovial manner. "Polyjuice takes a month to cook up, and you have things under close watch." He'd said it confidently, as if it were a fact, but still he raised one eyebrow as if asking Snape whether he was really being watchful.

"I trust Filch and the Carrows."

"As do I. But do we really need to debate the matter here and now? If you'll just let me get what I—"

"In the morning!" Snape waved his hand; the key turned in the lock. He then dropped it into the pocket of his robes and, without another word, turned and walked away. As soon as he'd turned the corner, Slughorn also turned and went back toward Slytherin.

Maybe I'd better go easy on the pilfering, Cho thought; I really don't want them taking it out on the students. With a wave of her hand she cast an Alohomora; the door to the stores closet swung open soundlessly. She pocketed the few items she needed, then closed and locked the door, going back to the Room of Requirement.

xxx

Cho spent about a week in the windowless Room of Requirement with Michael Corner. If anyone had told her that they would be thrown into such close quarters before she got there, she would have thought it was a form of punishment. But now that they had cleared the air, things between them seemed less of a problem.

It still didn't stop Michael from asking one day, "Cho, tell me honestly: did I ever have a chance?"

She answered without hesitation and without malice. "I'm sorry, Michael, but not even when Harry and I were fighting. I don't know how else to say it, but my heart simply could not let him go."

"Lucky you, then; you know what you want out of life."

"Not all that lucky, really. It wasn't easy to figure what I wanted out of life; it wasn't painless, either."

Michael just nodded, as if he finally understood her.

After a few days, some of the other members of Dumbledore's Army came by to ask about Michael and to say hello to Cho. She hadn't realized how much she missed these old friends, including Neville Longbottom, who came to see her on her sixth day.

"Great to see you again," he smiled as she shook her hand a bit too briskly.

"Same here," she smiled, "but I wish you'd taken Michael to the hospital wing when he was first attacked. Then he'd be in London and away from here."

"Is it that bad, then?"

"Very bad, actually. His spleen was bleeding and almost shut down. He would have had to go to St. Mungo's."

"Yeh, well, then there'd be all sorts of questions."

"But you're head of Dumbledore's Army now, right? You really should take better care."

"Yeh, I'm sure you're right." Neville just sort of looked down at his feet for a minute. Cho was afraid she'd been too rough, but then he spoke up again. "So, do you listen to Potterwatch?"

"What's that, then?"

"Some friends of Harry," Neville smiled. "They've sealed off a corner of the Wizarding Wireless Network and get the truth out about the Ministry, the search for Harry, everything."

"And the Death Eaters can't stop them?"

"Not for lack of trying. The only problem is, the broadcast needs a password, and unless you heard them mention it the previous broadcast you pretty much have to guess what it might be. It changes every time, you see."

"Well, I haven't asked for much since I came here, but I really wish we had a radio."

Neville's smile grew a bit as he turned, walked back to the door, and paced back and forth in front of it several times, muttering to himself. After a couple of minutes, he stopped and walked back to Cho. Reaching into the pocket of his robes, he pulled out a small wireless radio.

For the first time in a long time, Cho was amazed by magic. "The Room did that?"

"I guess the Room likes me," Neville said, blushing a bit. He set the radio on Michael's bedside table, knocking a few things onto the floor in the process. "Sorry," he said, pulling his wand from his pocket. "This is the latest broadcast, I think. They don't exactly have a schedule, you see."

He tapped the radio with his wand twice, paused, then tapped it again and said, "Godric."

The radio instantly came to life:

"Happy Holidays to all friends near and far, and especially to friends of the Number One Undesirable. This is Potterwatch."

Cho's jaw hung open in amazement. "And that's Professor Lupin!"

"Well, he can't call himself that," Michael started to explain. But Cho was too intent on listening.

"We don't have a lot of time. The Ministry seems intent on giving itself a lot of presents this year, so it's rounding up as many of our friends as it can find."

"Fortunately," another voice interrupted, "the Ministry's as good at that as they are about other things."

What sounded like the same voice interrupted: "Which means there are still a lot of us out and about, including The Boy Who Lived."

The Weasley twins.

"By the bye, who are we this time?"

"I dunno. We never decide these things in advance, do we? Riff and Raff, I suppose."

"But which is which?"

Professor Lupin interrupted: "Well, while those two argue the toss, this is Romulus, bringing word of a very lucky family. We've heard from a contact deep in the Ministry itself about a family that came within a hair of being imprisoned for not having the right kind of relatives."

"Yes," interrupted another voice. "Sorry I'm late; lots of Snatcher activity near Trafalgar Square today."

"Glad to see you dodged it, Royal. Did they get their target?"

"Not while I'm around." Cho now recognized the voice as belonging to Kingsley Shacklebolt; he'd been a major figure in the Ministry when it was run by Scrimgeour, but who walked away from it when Pius Thicknesse took over. "Anyway, they've been chasing after anyone they can find, including the wizards who have been loyal to the Ministry. They even went after a maintenance wizard named Reg Cattermole, who was accused of marrying a Muggle. No real evidence; just the accusation."

"That's all it takes these days, it seems."

"Too right, Romulus. Well, I've been informed by other Ministry contacts that Reg, his wife, and their three children have fled the country successfully. The family is alive and well and safe, living under another name in Canada."

"Why Canada?"

"That's a story that's too long and strange to talk about here and now. I'll save it for a future edition of Potterwatch, because it's the sort of story we all need to hear, and it actually involves the Chosen One himself. But he's currently on a Grand Tour of Britain, it seems, so he's unavailable. Maybe we can get him on the program one day. He can tell us all about it."

"And we all live and work for that day, Royal. Thanks for the information."

The broadcast didn't go on much longer, but Cho listened to it utterly rapt; a dragon could have burst through the wall and she wouldn't have paid it any mind. She hadn't expected the effect the broadcast would have on her. In a sense, it was the closest she had been to Harry Potter in months. She couldn't help it, but she surrendered to the love she still felt for Harry; nothing else mattered.

Nothing, that is, until the radio switched off. Cho now realized that Terry Boot had entered the Room, carrying something large under his robes.

"Sorry to interrupt the party, but we've had a visitor, and I think we have to have the doctor examine this patient."

"What do you mean?"

Terry opened his robe, and Cho's heart turned to lead.

It was her owl, Quan Yin.

"She brought you a message," Terry started. The bird interrupted him by flying to Cho and presenting the leg with the strip of paper tied to it.

Cho didn't even have to read the message; "It's from my mum," she told the others.

"Let me guess the message," Michael sighed; "come home at once."

Cho barely glanced at the paper. "Words to that effect," she nodded. "I'm sorry, Michael, but I really don't want to leave."

"Look, you've told me about your mum often enough. If the others can give me what I need, I'll be fine."

"Give me five minutes." Cho started writing a schedule of potion dosages and the times of day they were to be given to Michael. Meanwhile, Neville went back to his pacing in front of the door. By the time Cho had finished the instructions, a roaring fireplace stood along one wall.

"It's on the Floo, but only for a minute and only one use. We've had to do this before," Neville explained to Cho.

"Fine. Send Quan Yin home on her own. It was lovely seeing you all again. Sorry I have to heal and run." She took a pinch of Floo Powder from a bowl on the mantelpiece.

"Wait!" Neville shouted. "I almost forgot. Check the Galleon!"

"The what?"

"The Galleon!"

"Time, Cho," Michael said.

She stepped into the fire, threw the Floo Powder down, and spoke her destination in Mandarin. She immediately vanished, and, a few seconds later, so did the fireplace.

xxx

To be continued in part 9, wherein Cho finds a very big surprise waiting for her at home.


	9. Chapter 9

CHO CHANG'S EIGHTH YEAR

By monkeymouse

NB: JKRowling built the Potterverse; I'm just redecorating one of the rooms. And one of the great things about JKR telling the story from Harry's point of view is that stuff could be happening all over the wizarding world that Harry isn't aware of.

Rated: PG

Spoilers: Everything

xxx

9. Surprise Party

Cho stepped out of the fireplace into her own home for the first time in a week. Her father was standing by the parlour door, dressed in his best suit and with a coat over his arm. He didn't look too pleased.

She tried to make light of the situation: "Have I missed anything?"

Chang Xiemin simply sighed. Cho knew this was a bad sign. She could usually count on her father to calm the waters if her mother was too upset. This sigh meant that he thought Lotus was right.

"I'm sorry I just ran off, daddy, but surely you know why."

"Not another word." He held up one hand. "We indulged you in your little excursion…"

"Excursion!" Cho was indignant, but before she could continue arguing her side of things, her father interrupted.

"We wouldn't have called you home, but I have business to attend to today and I won't have your mother working in the shoppe by herself. Fortunately the weather's been bitter and we've had few customers, but it's a bit warmer today and we expect business will pick up. In five minutes' time I expect you to be changed and down working with your mother. I'll be back after lunch."

"Where are you going?"

Mister Chang stopped with the parlour door half-open. Without looking at Cho he said, "It's your turn to have to wait for information." Without giving Cho a chance to interrupt, he turned and left the parlour. Cho heard him step quickly down the stairs and out the door.

xxx

Maybe Cho timed it subconsciously, or maybe it was coincidence, but she entered the shoppe just as the clock struck nine and her mother was unlocking the door, where a couple of crones were already waiting in the cold. From that moment on, Lotus and Cho never exchanged a word, not even about business. Cho kept waiting for something to happen, some clue as to what would come next, but noon struck, and her father returned to the shoppe, and still there was no information. As her father took off his coat, he looked at her and said, "Go practice."

At first she found it hard to walk on the teacups correctly; she kept losing her footing. Then she stopped, and in her mind played a single note on the flute, holding it as long as she could. After that, it was easy; she hadn't lost her skills. After about an hour of practice, she went back to help in the shoppe. There were many more clients in the afternoon; her father was right about the warmer weather. She stayed busy until closing time.

As her father locked the door, Cho heard her mother say, "Come into the parlour."

She assumed her parents would interrogate her, as if she was a prisoner bound for Azkaban, but she still resolved not to tell them anything about how she had disposed of the bodies of the two wizards her father had killed. She knew her silence would protect them, and she was determined to keep silent.

However, once she entered the parlour Lotus started speaking. "We've decided to have a New Year's dinner early this year. Your father has invited some people from the Ministry who have been helpful this past year. They'll be here tomorrow at six. I'll have to prepare everything tomorrow afternoon, so you'll need to be in the shoppe."

She started to ask, "Can I help with dinner?" She hoped the offer might thaw Lotus's icy demeanour somewhat. No such luck.

"Did I ask for help?" Lotus replied. Cho had seen her like this many times: distant, holding herself in check to keep from flying into a rage. Cho wasn't sure what she had done to bring on this mood, when her mother broke in on her thoughts: "Get ready for dinner."

Cho no longer knew what to make of her parents' mood.

xxx

According to the lunar calendar, the lunar new year—the Year of the Tiger—wouldn't begin until January 28; just about the time of Cho's birthday. Over the years, though, she had gotten used to celebrating Chinese New Year at various times. Sometimes her parents had invited over English wizards on 1 January; they probably figured it would not be worth a lengthy explanation. Other dates were chosen when people were either out of town on the day, or would be passing through Diagon Alley earlier. Either way, the fact that it was not the right day didn't bother her. What did concern Cho was her parents' absolute silence. They hadn't told her who was coming, or why, or how to act. It had to mean that they trusted her maturity; what else could it mean? Yet they still seemed upset over her sudden flight to Hogwarts. Why wouldn't they tell her why?

xxx

By five o'clock the next day the shoppe was empty. Lotus had gone into their house hours before and was arranging dinner. The shoppe had been left to Cho and her father; now, he took the day's earnings in, telling Cho, "Clean up the shoppe, then get washed and dressed. Your mum's already laid out your robes." With that, he was gone.

So far, no answers. Fine; this was all leading up to something. If company was coming, that probably meant it wouldn't be a punishment. Lotus was capable of many things, but not publicly humiliating a member of the family. Besides, when she saw the robes her mother had laid out, Cho realized that it can't be that bad. The robes were in Ravenclaw's colours, blue with bronze trim, and just above her heart was her Captain's pin. For someone who spoke as disparagingly of Quidditch as Lotus Chang, this was a remarkable gesture.

She took her time washing up and dressing, letting her mind run through memories of Hogwarts and Quidditch, things she hadn't thought of all year as she tried to perfect her Chinese magic. She thought of friends made, friends lost, magic learned and perfected, Snitches missed and caught. Each memory led to another, until she lost all track of the time wandering through so many memories; surely they belonged to another witch, some of them. There were just so many; too many for one witch in one lifetime.

She found the memories leading her along a path in her head that she hadn't planned on. It was as if recent events, unexpected and unplanned, had their roots in things she had said and done before. The thoughts amazed her; she was completely unprepared for where her thoughts were taking her. And, just as she realized the most important and unexpected thing, she heard the door bell. She heard the door open, heard her parents' voices muffled by the distance and the closed door as they greeted the guests. By the time she finished dressing and running a brush through her hair and opened the bedroom door, they were gone. To the dining room? No; not so soon. They'd have a chat first, maybe a drink. She went to the open parlour door, and stopped.

Her parents were in the parlour, chatting with their guests as if they were old friends: Celia and Amos Diggory.

xxx

She hadn't seen them for two years, when they came over for the first Christmas after Cedric's death. Amos was deep in drink and despair at the loss of his only child; which, at the time, Cho couldn't see past her own despair. What Cedric's father might have been going through didn't matter to her then. She'd found a way to blame him for Cedric's death—in her own mind, anyway.

"And here she is," Cho's father said as she stopped in the doorway, "and well worth the wait."

"Happy New Year, dear," Celia said, "you look lovely. Would you like something?" She gestured toward a cart with several bottles on it.

"I, erm, just tea."

"Very wise," Amos said. "Last time I was rather the worse for firewhisky."

"Wait a minute!" Cho interrupted. "I, I didn't know you were coming tonight, and, well, there's something I need to say.

"I was thinking about Hogwarts just now, and remembering two friends. I've had a bit of a falling-out with one of them. I hope that, someday, we can work things out and talk with each other again. And the other friend is Cedric. I can't work things out with him, ever again. And last time you were here, I was feeling so bad about Cedric that I didn't even notice that you felt the same way. Mister and Missus Diggory, I need to tell you how sorry I am for the way I acted last time."

xxx

Cho never in life expected to hear herself say those words after the way Cedric's parents had treated him and spoken of her. Yet here she was reaching out to them, and here was Celia Diggory, rising to her feet a bit unsteadily, her eyes filling with tears all over again, as Cho's eyes filled with tears all over again, and before they realized it Cho was holding the other woman and being held. Neither said a word; they really didn't need to say anything. Cho's parents and Amos Diggory didn't say anything; they didn't need to, either, but for a different reason.

When Cho and Celia finally let go of each other, Lotus said, "Let's continue this in the dining room, shall we?"

So they moved to the dining-room and commenced a ten-course Chinese New Year's banquet: a variety of small dishes each completely different from the others, and still quite filling. As the food continued to appear, so did the conversation. If Cho had been told this would happen even a week before, she would have scoffed at the possibility. Yet here they all were, chatting like two families who'd just discovered that their ancestors emigrated from the same village.

Between dumplings and duck, Amos Diggory had been reliving some of Cedric's (admittedly few) Quidditch triumphs, including the day he beat Harry Potter. Then he fell silent. Finally, he looked a bit sheepishly at Cho.

"Those were Cedric's years of triumph, and yet they pointed him toward disaster. Now I wish he'd never reached those heights. If he'd just kept his head down, just been a Hufflepuff, not gotten as far as, as I pushed him to go." He seemed to be talking to Cho, but deliberately wasn't meeting her eyes with his. "I don't know what would have happened to him if things were different. When I heard about Dumbledore's Army, well, you had to know it was all the talk at the Ministry for months." Cho hadn't known, of course, but before she could utter a word Diggory went on. "At first I followed the Ministry's lead. The kids were misguided, Dumbledore was dangerous, and Umbridge was telling us the truth. By the time You Know Who had his battle with Dumbledore at the Ministry itself, and the death and destruction started, well, I felt such a damned fool."

Celia interrupted her husband. "What we mean to tell you, Cho, is that, well, Amos understood what he had to do from your parents."

What?

"Surely you know that your father has been reporting to Amos at Control of Magical Creatures," Celia went on. "They meet several times a month on import licenses and things, and it's always been about business. But last year, when you were away at Hogwarts, Amos came within a troll's toenail of quitting the Ministry altogether. Good thing Mister Chang talked him out of it."

"It was an easy argument to make," James Chang said. "Most of what Amos did was perfectly legitimate, something that witches and wizards needed. Some of us just took a page from the kids' book and also looked at ways we could undo what the Ministry was trying to do, especially this year with Thicknesse in charge."

Lotus, spoke up: "Cho dear, it was sweet of you to worry about us after the Fogglys came here looking for your friend Penelope. But it was completely unnecessary. When the Fogglys turned up missing, a trusted Ministry employee assured Gawain Robards at the Aurors Office that they'd never even arrived in Diagon Alley that night."

Cho felt slightly sick. "You mean…"

Her father nodded. "Amos Diggory created a cover story to establish that they were never here, and one of his colleagues supplied a rumour that they'd gone to the Continent to root out a nest of Muggle-borns. It's funny, really; they believed so strongly in a conspiracy of Muggle-borns, yet it never occurred to them that Purebloods could conspire against the Ministry."

"We were just as blinded, I suppose," Celia Diggory added. "I think every parent knows that their teenaged children think they know better. Sometimes, they don't give their parents credit for knowing anything at all." She hesitated a moment, and swallowed. "Then again," she continued softly, "parents can't always tell when their children really do know better. We didn't want to believe it, but now I think you and Cedric were right."

No no no, Cho said to herself, don't say that, not now, not after the way it ended. Not with all I've learned since then… Aloud, Cho, looking down at the plate in front of her, said, barely above a whisper, "Thank you."

And she said little else for the rest of the evening.

xxx

To be continued in part 10, wherein Cho returns to Hogwarts at the summons of the Galleon…


	10. Chapter 10

CHO CHANG'S EIGHTH YEAR

By monkeymouse

NB: JKRowling built the Potterverse; I'm just redecorating one of the rooms. And one of the great things about JKR telling the story from Harry's point of view is that stuff could be happening all over the wizarding world that Harry isn't aware of.

Rated: PG

Spoilers: Everything

xxx

10. Signs of Spring

Cho's birthday came around, as usual, in the dead of winter. Again the Changs had guests over for dinner, but Cho didn't find out until the moment they arrived; she wasn't supposed to find out.

The sun was already set when the guests knocked on the door. Cho had already gotten presents—books, of course—from her parents that morning, but they had all been so busy in the shoppe that she hadn't had even five minutes to look through some of the books. She had just taken a minute to page through "Queens of the Quaffle," profiles of outstanding witches in Quidditch, when she heard the knock.

"Cho, get that, would you please?" Lotus called from upstairs. "I'm not quite dressed yet."

Cho, feeling frustrated, closed the book but kept her fingers where she'd opened it. Maybe I can get five minutes in before dinner, she thought as she opened the door. A second later, her parents heard a scream, and the thud of the book falling to the floor.

As they came downstairs, they saw Cho, hands over her mouth in surprise, and, waiting on the front step, bundled up to the eyeballs from the cold, were Madam Hooch, Hogwarts flying instructor, and Gwenog Jones of the Holyhead Harpies!

"You DO plan to invite us in," Hooch said, as archly as she could muster, but even Cho could tell that she was smiling.

xxx

For the rest of the evening, food kept coming from the kitchen nonstop as Cho fired question after question at Gwenog Jones. The first question out of her mouth, though, was to Madam Hooch: "What's it like these days at Hogwarts?"

"Whatever Quidditch they still have is pretty much just for show," Hooch said as she sipped at some Chinese plum wine. "Snape and the Carrows live in absolute dread of the students rising up against them, so they never give them a chance to assemble en masse. Meals are taken in shifts according to your House; if you're late or early you're supposed to get nothing, but you can imagine the flaw in that plan."

Cho and Gwenog said, in unison, "the house elves!"

Hooch nodded. "I swear, I never met a house elf who wouldn't tackle a dragon just to give a human a midnight snack. Snape should know better by now, but the Carrows must have spent all their time around the Minister, or the Minister's Minister." That was Hooch's way of saying that Thicknesse answered to Lord Voldemort. "They think elves are beneath their notice, so they have no idea what's going on."

"But what's the Quidditch like?"

"It's nothing for the students, especially since you can only go to a match if your House is playing."

"That's terrible!" Cho burst out.

"The students tried to get around it at the first game, but just before play started the announcer says that there will be a special 'placement examination' for Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, to commence in five minutes. No latecomers will be admitted, and automatic failure if you're not there."

"It sounds awful!"

Jones interrupted: "Afterwards, Horace Slughorn sent an owl about it, including the announcer. Merlin help me for saying it, but I do wish that, one night, all the kittens would leap off her plates and claw her to death."

Kittens? Plates? "You mean…"

"Yes; Umbridge is back at Hogwarts. Not as Headmistress, of course, but as ruthless a disciplinarian as ever."

"Now then," Lotus Chang said as she swept in from the kitchen, "you two didn't come all this way to tell Cho that she's well out of Hogwarts."

"Even though she is," Hooch added. Jones just nodded and cracked her knuckles. Cho's father shivered; he could never get used to that sound. "Things have been more than a little confuzzled, and not just at Hogwarts. As you can imagine, the Minister's Minister has a close eye on some departments, so he's had to let slide the others. Among the latter portfolios has been Magical Games and Sports; he'd hardly care about that even if something weren't weighing on his mind. As it is, there's a bit of a shake-up at the Ministry."

"Well, they haven't said anything about it in the Prophet," Cho said.

"About what?" Lotus asked.

"I think Madam Hooch is hinting around the fact that there hasn't been a head of Magical Games and Sports since the Triwizard."

Hooch smiled, looked at Cho's parents as they said, in unison, "Ravenclaw."

"You know the way it's been done," Jones said; "some veteran player who's gone a bit long in the tooth retires to the Ministry, runs Quidditch, and puts everything else on the staff. It's been three interim directors in three years, but they're about to name a permanent replacement. The Prophet doesn't even know yet; it won't be known for another week."

Hooch looked at Cho. "Very well, Miss Ravenclaw," she smiled, "you should be able to figure the name with all the clues you've been given."

Was this puzzle one of her birthday gifts? Was it just by chance that Madam Hooch stopped by to celebrate her nineteenth birthday? And what would the Department of Magical Games and…

The answer hit in a blaze of inspiration; not just the answer, but everything that it implied. She looked to Madam Hooch, but found her mouth was almost too dry to speak: "Prosper Drury?"

"Right in one," Gwenog smiled. "I figured she would."

"Mister and Missus Chang," Madam Hooch addressed Cho's parents, "I know that you've had reservations about Quidditch and your daughter. From her first year at Hogwarts I realized that she had the makings of a great Seeker. I also realized that she had enough respect for you not to leap at it on her own. Well, here I must ask you all to consider: Prosper Drury, Seeker for the Tutshill Tornadoes, is leaving the stadium and taking up the Quidditch portfolio at the Ministry. That means that their reserve Seeker moves up, which creates an opening. I know that it isn't up to me, but I can't think of a better fit than Cho."

The room fell silent. The Changs looked at each other, and were about to speak…

"WAIT!"

Cho was standing between her parents and her guests; she seemed surprised to find herself there.

"Madam Hooch, Miss Jones, first of all I want to thank you, from the bottom of my heart. I may never get an honour like this again. But, as you know, our world is all topsy-turvy at the moment, thanks to Minister Thicknesse and the rest. Because of that, my parents have put me on a special course of study. When I complete those studies, then I can think about Tutshill."

The words hung in the air for a moment. Then Hooch spoke: "It's late, and we have our answer. Perhaps this is the moment for a parting glass." A tray appeared with five small goblets of plum wine. When they had all taken a goblet, Madam Hooch raised hers.

"First of all, I don't think I've been let down this nicely since I tried to recruit my fourth husband. I knew that Cho had a Seeker's talent, but also a solid set of principles to live her life by, and I was bound to respect them. May we all live to see better days, and soon; may we live to see this girl someday grace the skies over Tutshill; and, Cho, may you always have the happiest of birthdays."

"Hear hear," Gwenog said before emptying her wine glass in one gulp.

Cho didn't say anything. She just turned and leaned against her mother, letting the tears soak into her robes.

xxx

Before a week had gone by, Ministry wizards were back at the Chang herb shoppe. They were two burly, middle-aged wizards, and, when Cho saw them come in, the first thought that crossed her mind was that they had once been Beaters on some Quidditch team or other. They had the air of undisciplined Beaters who would swing at anything or anyone.

"Can I help you?" she said with a slight bow and an immobile face. Smiling at the Ministry was not something she felt like doing.

"Who's in charge here?" The wizard who spoke had a gravelly voice and an ill-kept red beard.

"My father. He's working on the books just now."

"Tell him we're here, and have him bring the books and your import licenses."

Cho went upstairs to the parlour where her father had set up ledger books and an abacus which clicked away on its own, adding and subtracting last year's figures. "Father, some Ministry wizards want to see your books and import licenses."

"Did they say anything else," he asked.

"No."

"I've been expecting this for some months," he said, standing up and closing the books. "There are some new and very potent boomslang skins coming onto the market; use them in Polyjuice and it lasts longer and is harder to detect. The Ministry hates the idea that it's lagging behind in anything."

"Should I ask?"

"No, this time you should not. Send your mum to the shop; she's in the cellar. I expect we won't do any business until that lot has gone."

Cho went back down to tell her mother. She found Lotus in the storeroom, and this time she was walking on tea cups. Cho couldn't help but watch her mother's graceful, fluid motions as she walked on eggshell-thin porcelain without breaking or even moving anything. She told her mother about the Ministry wizards and what her father had thought of their visit. When her mother had gone up Cho took advantage of the cups to spend an hour walking on them, then moving to the walls and the ceiling. She hadn't missed a step.

xxx

"Can I ask about the skins now?"

Lotus had just cleared away the dinner dishes, and Chairman Miao had jumped onto Cho's lap for a little attention. She scratched behind the cat's ears.

"What do you need to know?" There was something in Lotus's voice that caught Cho's attention; this question was deeper than it looked, like a deceptively deep spot in a river.

"It's just that we've been brewing up Polyjuice for centuries. What makes this batch of skins so different?"

Lotus looked at her husband, who answered the question. "Nobody knows when or how it happened, but boomslangs seem to have evolved within the last few decades. As near as the naturalist wizards have figured out, boomslangs share territory with numerous other breeds of snake, including the Black Mamba. Apparently, the two breeds have, erm, shared more than territory."

"Daddy, I understand about chimeras. I just never thought there'd ever be any new ones."

"There have been many reports over the years of the two breeds attempting to mate with each other, but after years of trying there have never been reports of this resulting in either eggs or live offspring. Until about thirty years ago."

Cho glanced at her mother, then back at her father. "A few living crosses were found in the wild and taken back to the Ministry by someone in Magical Creatures named Graciela Pyrox. It might interest you to learn that her maiden name was Graciela Avery, a very old, very Pureblood, and very Slytherin family. A dab hand at Potions, too, by all accounts. It took her years to figure out how to make Polyjuice using the new skins, to find out how long it would last and make sure it wouldn't kill you in the process."

Lotus interrupted Cho's train of thought: "So, what do you think the Ministry's next move was?"

"It sounds as if they were determined to keep this Polyjuice to themselves. It would give them a leg up in working undercover. But I'm thinking that someone else figured how to use the new skins. It would take much too long to discover the same thing independently, so someone in the Ministry slipped out the skins, the formula, everything. A major security breach."

Chang Xiemin beamed. "Carefully reasoned, and perfectly correct. If only someone other than Thicknesse was Minister; you'd probably be offered a nice berth in the Department of Mysteries, or the Aurors Office."

He took hold of Cho's shoulder; she reached up and squeezed his hand. "Thanks, daddy," she said softly. After a minute she spoke again; "I assume your source wasn't the Diggorys."

"Let's just say friends of friends," Lotus said. "You understand that we can't compromise them."

xxx

The same conversation continued over the next couple of weeks, and moved from Polyjuice to Minister Thicknesse.

"Not too many people know where he came from," Cho's father was saying one Sunday afternoon, as they took advantage of a break in the weather and were readying the garden for spring. "Funny thing is, he wasn't a Slytherin. Didn't even go to Hogwarts."

"Where's he from, then?"

"According to the rumours, he was recruited into Magical Law Enforcement from the Continent; grew up with Igor Karkaroff."

"Was he Durmstrang, then?"

Cho's father looked over his shoulder before answering in a lowered voice. "I think he likes giving that impression, but no. He was ambitious enough to realize that Slytherin and Durmstrang weren't names that would get him too far in the Ministry, but that's what he wanted: a position of power in the Ministry. He cultivated rumours of the Dark Arts that could never be verified, but he went through the Voyevode Magical Military Academy on the Polish border. Once he was in Magical Law Enforcement, he did the work he was assigned and kept his ears open."

"Didn't he work under Fudge?"

"Fudge, Scrimgeour; made no difference. His only allegiance is to Pius Thicknesse."

"Yet he works for You Know Who."

"It's who he is," Lotus interrupted, also in a whisper. "He'll work for anyone. I don't usually follow gossip, but I heard from an apprentice to Madam Malkin that Minister Thicknesse had come in for a fitting before Christmas, and they did a spell-check to see if he was under any kind of enchantment, since it alters the hang of the robes. He said he wasn't under any influence, and he wasn't."

"So all his pronouncements about Muggle-borns…"

"That's Minister Thicknesse speaking from his heart, such as it is. Over the years he's learned just what to say about Muggle-borns and, as long as You Know Who trusts him, he stays on top, with no interference."

"If I were You Know Who, I don't think I would trust anyone."

"Apparently, there's another project that has him preoccupied. He can't be bothered with the day-to-day of the wizarding world."

Before Cho could ask anything else, clouds started gathering overhead. That ended the gardening.

xxx

Spring came to Diagon Alley in its own time; something else the Ministry couldn't control. The Hogwarts Express was expected to bring students home for break; in the week before that happened, business at the shoppe almost doubled as parents prepared special meals for their children, which required special ingredients.

The longer the days grew, and the closer the weeks came toward end of term at Hogwarts, and especially the longer the news in the Prophet went on recording Ministry policy without mentioning anything at all about Harry Potter, the more anxious Cho grew about his safety. Wherever Harry was, however he managed to evade capture, his luck can't hold out for much longer. She thought the paper was essentially worthless—worse than that bizarre Quibbler—but she pored through it the second it hit the doorstep every morning. Finding nothing day after day brought a few minutes of relief, followed by hours of anxiety, which she kept inside as best she could until the next day's paper was delivered.

Until May Day, which Cho would forever call the Day of the Dragon

xxx

To be continued in part 10, wherein, after an unlikely event in Diagon Alley, Cho returns to Hogwarts at the summons of the Galleon, and isn't concerned about Dumbledore's Army…


	11. Chapter 11

CHO CHANG'S EIGHTH YEAR

By monkeymouse

NB: JKRowling built the Potterverse; I'm just redecorating one of the rooms. And one of the great things about JKR telling the story from Harry's point of view is that stuff could be happening all over the wizarding world that Harry isn't aware of.

Rated: PG

Spoilers: Everything

xxx

11. Back to School

May Day was sunny and fair; the weather offered no hint of what was to come. Cho and her parents were preparing to open the shoppe for business as usual.

"Why haven't you ever closed on May Day?" Cho asked while refreshing a lovely display of spiderwort, which was just coming into flower.

"Never felt the need," her father said. "Nor do our goblin neighbours." Britain in 1998 observed May Day as a bank holiday, but Gringotts was far older than May Day, and the goblins who ran it were far more contrary than the spring weather. They kept their bank open for business even during the Blitz attacks of World War II. Of course, their shield charms were far stronger than any bombs.

"Oh, Cho," her mother said, "can you take a minute before we open? Madam Malkin was supposed to come by yesterday afternoon and pick up a packet of olive tree bark, but she never came. Could you run it down to her, please?"

"Of course, mummy." She saw a small brown paper bag on the counter by the door. "Will that be enough?"

"It'll have to do; that was all I could get. You know this wasn't a good winter."

"Right, then; I'll be back in a minute."

Cho seldom wore the tall conical hat that declared her a witch; she liked feeling the sun on her face and the breeze in her hair. It was the closest she could get to playing Quidditch. Even as she strolled down Diagon Alley toward Madam Malkin's she realized that it had been a year since she had been on a broom, being a Seeker. Some days, like this perfect Spring day, she missed it terribly: the smell of the grass, the feel of the wind, the muffled roaring and quaking earth…

WHAT?

She ran unsteadily toward a display table in front of Quality Quidditch Supplies and grabbed on to keep her balance. She had never been in an earthquake before and didn't know if she was still in danger. Then she heard the subterranean roar again. This wasn't part of any earthquake.

The roar sounded louder, and now competed with the groaning and creaking of the gigantic metal doors of the goblin bank. As Cho tried to keep her balance, she suddenly remembered where she had heard such roaring years before, at Hogwarts…

And just as the word occurred to her the doors of Gringotts were forced open from within by a dragon. Obviously this was one of the security dragons that lived under Gringotts; somehow it had gotten loose. But, even though this dragon was larger than any of the four Cho had seen in the Triwizard Tournament, she actually felt sorry for this one. It must have spent most of its life underground, for its eyes were pink and glazed over and its scales were pale and seemed to be peeling. When this dragon felt fresh air, it let out a great triumphal cry, and an arc of flame shot up higher than Gringotts. It spread its wings and shot up into the sky.

The ground had stopped shaking, of course, but Cho stayed rooted to her spot. At first she was afraid the rumbling might start up again; after all, nobody knew how many security dragons Gringotts had, or if another one might be getting loose. But she waited another minute because she had to be sure, it might have been a delusion or a wish or a fantasy but she was more and more certain that she had glimpsed, just for an instant, three people riding the dragon up into the sky.

All of them had familiar faces. One had a very familiar face.

xxx

"You're not serious!"

"Mummy, I know what I saw!"

"At that distance, riding a dragon? How can you be sure…"

"Because of those, those DAMNED POSTERS! Don't we see them every day; haven't we seen them all year: "Undesirable Number One"? And haven't I, haven't I told you that I remember Harry? That I've seen, I know, every hair, every shadow on those posters that's wrong?" Cho was crying again; she either didn't notice or didn't care. "Besides, who else do you know in the wizarding world who would attempt such a thing?"

Lotus silently studied her daughter for a minute; then she turned to her husband. "May as well close up; we won't have any business this morning." Then she turned to Cho. "The parlour; we have to talk."

Cho bit her lip, nodded and went into the parlour to wait for her mother. After a minute, she walked in, closed the doors and took a space on the settee next to Cho.

Lotus Chang looked at Cho, giving her the same half-smile Cho had worn all too often at Hogwarts—usually when receiving a mix of good news and bad news. Cho got in the first word: "I expect you're getting rather tired of these talks."

Her mother's smile broadened. "Tired? Not really. We haven't talked about this much, lately. And the only dodgy things we talk about have been Quidditch and boys."

"And lately I haven't had much to do with either of those. Mummy, tell me how you and father, y'know, realized you wanted to marry."

"I've told you before." Her eyes narrowed. "Don't tell me you're at that point…"

"No! Of course not. I just wanted to hear it again. It's been so long, and it just would give me something to think about."

"You remember where we met?"

Cho nodded. "Qing-dao. I keep thinking of it as the Beer Town," Cho smiled.

"Yes, and they still make that beer there. Before that?"

"Well, your mother, and her mother and her mother before her were a long line of shamans from a village near the Yangtze River. But your mum decided to look for witching work in a big city and met her husband in Zhengzhou. They had you and you grew up and went to Beer Town, where you met father."

Lotus nodded. "One thing I never told you," she said to Cho, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Your father's family were circus acrobats."

"Weren't they wizards?" Cho almost yelled in surprise.

"Of course they were! Keep your voice down. It's just that the government of China went through one of its 'we need to get rid of magic' stages. As acrobats they could hide in plain sight, so to speak."

"That's the where of your meeting. Tell me about the how."

"He was standing in the street in front of a steamship line office," Lotus smiled. "I'd been in Beer Town a few months by then but he was still the best-looking man I'd seen there. Still is, if I may say so, but don't tell him I said it," Lotus told Cho with a wink in a conspiratorial whisper. Cho almost giggled. "He was looking at a poster in the window advertising cheap passage to London. I tried to be as casual as I could as I told him that I was thinking of going to London myself; I know I tripped over my words a few times.

""Have you the fare?" I asked him. He pulls a few yuan notes out of his pocket, but in amongst them I saw a Galleon. I had one in my pocket that my grandmother gave me the last time I saw her; I took it out, made sure nobody was watching, and quickly showed it to him. Well, his face lit up like fireworks at a summer festival. We'd both found out that, whatever else big city life offered, it didn't have many chances for a wizard to find money, or friends.

"So we look at each other for a moment or two and then he says, "I'm hungry; do you want some noodles?" And there was a little noodle shop just up the street, where we met every day after that. We'd talk about going to London, and what we'd do there, and how much money we'd put aside for it. We couldn't just cloud-walk halfway around the world. I mean, we could, but the Muggles would surely see us somewhere. So we decided to travel by plane, and go through Customs. We had round-trip tickets and tourist visas. The same day we got through Heathrow, we sought out Diagon Alley, opened an account with our return tickets, which we cashed in as we needed, and the rest, as they say, is history."

"How did you learn about Diagon Alley?"

"Once we knew that we would be together, not just in going to London, we told our families. From then on it was as if we were one large family already. Your father's people knew our neighbours the Tans, who helped us find out feet when we got here. My mother's family made us a present of the tickets, knowing that we'd cash them in for money to live off of, for a start. And they all put together the most wonderful wedding!"

"You married in China?"

"Yes; one less thing to worry about." Lotus closed her eyes, remembering, and smiled. Then she looked at Cho, her expression more serious. "Of course, we never expected that you'd follow our lives; certainly not in every detail. Some of your choices, however…"

"Don't start, mummy, please!" Cho was afraid the conversation would turn back to the same old problems. "And we were having such a nice time."

"Fine, then. I'm going to ask you one question, and only one question. I don't mean anything by it other than to ask what I ask, so please don't read anything into it. Understood?" Cho nodded, wary of what was coming. "Your father and I understand how you feel about Harry Potter; you've made that very clear. What I want to know is this: When is the last time you spoke with him?"

"The last time…"

"I'm sure you remember it, but you know and I don't. What did you say and when did you say it?"

Before Cho could get out a single word, though, she completely lost her composure. Her face tightened up and she started crying like an abandoned child. Lotus reached out for her daughter's shoulder, and Cho completely went to pieces. She buried her face in her mother's robes, sobbing and howling. This was different, though, from her grieving over Cedric. Cho kept trying to speak, but could only manage odd sentences such as "He hates me!" and "I've ruined everything!"

Finally, Cho calmed down enough to string sentences together, and Lotus heard for the first time the full story about Dumbledore's Army, the Galleon signal, the training in the Room of Requirement, the time under the mistletoe with Harry Potter and all the times after that—everything. Finally, she worked her way up to the betrayal of the Army by Marietta Edgecombe, her appeals to Harry to undo the curse and the argument that developed.

"I've only seen him once or twice since then," Cho sniffled, "and he gives me this look, as if I were the traitor. It kills me, but I can't get over him. Believe me, I can't."

"Once again, Cho: how long since you two have spoken?"

Cho hesitated, not because she needed time to do the maths, but because she was embarrassed to admit it: "Just over … two years now."

Lotus used the sleeve of her robes to wipe Cho's face, smiling gently as she did so. "It's time, then, isn't it?"

"Not today! Harry…"

"Harry Potter has been in hiding for a year now; the object of the most intense search since Sirius Black got out of Azkaban, and not even a hint of his whereabouts. Yet you see him here, in Diagon Alley."

"You believe me?"

"Little Horse, the notion is so entirely mad that I have to believe it. Either he is putting himself back in your way, or the gods are putting him there, but there he is. You'll hear of him again, one way or another. You'll meet him again, face to face. This time, listen to what he says, and see him for who he is. You'll know if you're meant to be together. If you're not, well, you'll know that too, and you can walk away with no regrets. Either way, in victory or defeat, remember that you are a Chang."

xxx

Cho went back to her room before going downstairs again. Her talk with her mother had solved nothing, but it did confirm her suspicion—no, her hope—that her world was shifting back toward Harry. And if that was the case, then she had to be ready.

She went to the foot of her bed where her trunk sat, with a few items from her school days that somehow never got taken out or put up: the lengthy scroll her Potions class had been assigned to write about Tristan and Iseult and love potions; a comb she had gotten from a Christmas cracker when she stayed at Hogwarts her first year; a picture of Cedric she wanted to avoid; and a Galleon. This Galleon didn't contain the year it was minted, since it wasn't a real Galleon; the date stamped upon it was 20 June, 1997. That was the day Headmaster Albus Dumbledore was hit by a Killing Curse from Potions Master Severus Snape. It was the last time Dumbledore's Army had been mobilized, and Cho had missed it.

That would never happen again.

She Transfigured an old child's necklace from her jewel case—just an old trinket she used to make believe was the Quidditch Cup—into a metal band that now framed the Galleon, hanging from a strong yet delicate golden chain. She clasped it around her neck, then put coin and chain inside her robes. The Galleon rested cool against her chest, just below her neck.

There, she thought. No guesswork this time. If the Army is summoned again, I shall know it!

She went down to the shoppe as her parents were preparing to reopen the shoppe. Of course the incident at Gringotts was the talk of every customer who came in. It was unprecedented for the goblins to lose control of their own bank, and in such dramatic fashion.

In mid-afternoon Madam Malkin came to the shoppe, having only just remembered her request for olive tree bark but (Cho suspected) really making the rounds of the merchants in the Alley to see what they may have heard. As soon as Madam Malkin mentioned it, Cho remembered that the bag of bark had been forgotten in the excitement. She went back out, found that it was still sitting on the table in front of Quality Quidditch Supplies, and brought it back for Madam Malkin.

"I would have been here sooner," Madam Malkin was saying, "but the shock of it all! I thought my heart would explode, I was so frightened. I really ought to take a few days to rest my nerves…"

Just as Cho put the bag on the counter, the door opened and (everyone in Diagon Alley knew the signs by now) two Ministry wizards walked in. The two of them stood shoulder to shoulder behind Madam Malkin, making a show of listening to her. It had gotten to the point that they wanted everyone to know that the Ministry was keeping track of everything.

"The summer robes are just arriving, though, and with five weddings, no less, to prepare for next month, well, I can barely take a second to breathe, can I?"

"That's life, isn't it," Lotus said sympathetically. "So many things to do, and never enough time to do them all."

"Exactly. Take the Potter boy, for example. Undesirable Number One for, what, almost a year now, and no sign of him. I suppose the Ministry has better things to do. Gentlemen." Madam Malkin had turned to face the wizards behind her and, smiling, pushed them aside, walked between them and out of the shoppe.

They turned back to Lotus and Cho, scowling, but they had lost the moment of intimidation. Lotus simply looked at them coolly. "Buying or browsing, gentlemen?"

The two hesitated a minute, then left the shoppe. Cho could have sworn that one of them was blushing.

Lotus squeezed Cho's hand in her own.

xxx

"That was foolish," Xiemin told his wife over dinner.

Lotus nodded, then smiled. "But it was fun."

"After all the times you've lectured Cho?"

"Daddy, it's all right. I think there's more to it. Madam Malkin was even tweaking their noses a bit. Don't you feel something in the air?"

"Now that you mention it, after the business at the bank, I realized that something wasn't in the air."

"I don't follow."

"Ever since You Know Who returned, there's been a, I don't know, a darkness, an oppressive feeling in the air. Everyone felt it, even if they couldn't speak of it, and everyone we know in the Alley has had the same feeling. We felt the difference when Cho cast the Patronus."

"A dragon breaking out of Gringotts wouldn't have caused a change in all of that," Lotus said.

Cho set down her soup spoon. "No, mummy, I see what daddy's saying. That dragon couldn't have gotten loose unless something had changed. I don't know if You Know Who is somehow weakened, but he's clearly distracted. He's loosened his grip, if only for a day, but we all feel it. We can Stun things!"

"And what were you planning to Stun, dear?" Lotus asked.

Cho blushed deeply, looking down at her dinner plate. She didn't say anything for a minute. Then she said, barely loud enough to hear, "One time with Dumbledore's Army, the study group that Umbridge had forbidden, I, well, I told Harry he was a good teacher because I'd never been able to Stun anything before."

"Ah," her father said. "Forgive my asking, but was there anything else you hadn't done before?"

Lotus cut him off. "I don't know what you're suggesting, but we really don't need to get into that now."

Chang Xiemin stood up. "I'll be in the parlour." He turned and left.

Cho looked at her mother and started to say, "Thank you, mummy…"

Lotus stood up. "Cho, you told me. Now you have to tell him. He's your father; he deserves that much. And don't put it off too long." And Lotus left the room.

Cho ran to her room, almost slammed the door but stopped herself at the last second, closed it, then went to her bed and punched her pillow a half-dozen times. Damn damn DAMN! Why is this so difficult? I was close, so close to telling them about Harry and it all just fell apart. What's wrong with me? Why can't I—"OUCH!"

Cho cried out as she felt a hot burning on her chest. The Galleon!

She opened her robes and checked her skin first. The Galleon had felt white-hot, but she wasn't burned; the point of the charm on the Galleon was to get the user's attention. She checked the message:

Hog's Head Inn, Hogsmeade NOW

What? Not Hogwarts? This makes no sense, but it's real. The only thing to do is answer the summons and sort it out when I get there. And there's one quick way to go.

She went to the open door to the parlour, look in at her parents who were balancing the ledger, and said, "I'm turning in now; goodnight." Then she turned and left without waiting for a reply.

She went back to the bedroom door, opened it, then closed it again. She tiptoed down the back stairs to the kitchen, and went through it to the dining room. She went straight to the fireplace, took some Floo powder from the dish on the mantel, and tossed it in, saying "Hog's Head Inn, Hogsmeade."

Immediately a great green flame roared up in the fireplace. Cho stepped into the flame, and vanished.

xxx

To be continued in part 12, wherein Cho and her parents are part of the Battle of Hogwarts and various truths are confirmed …

A/N: Beer Town, which here is spelled Qing-dao, refers to a brew still marketed as Tsing-Tao.


	12. Chapter 12

CHO CHANG'S EIGHTH YEAR

By monkeymouse

NB: JKRowling built the Potterverse; I'm just redecorating one of the rooms. And one of the great things about JKR telling the story from Harry's point of view is that stuff could be happening all over the wizarding world that Harry isn't aware of.

Rated: PG

Spoilers: Everything

xxx

12. Back to School

Her arrival at the Hog's Head was accompanied by the usual flash and smoke involved in Floo travel, but cutting through the smoke was a voice; a voice Cho had learned to detest in the past year.

"I don't care if they forbade me to come!"

Ginny Weasley.

"You'd better start caring; we can always change our minds," said one of her twin brothers.

"Yeah," the other twin picked up the sentence, "see how long you stay here if we peach on you."

"Well, I want to see him, so where is he?"

"You keep a civil tongue, child." The voice was familiar somehow; then she remembered. The Hog's Head was run by Aberforth Dumbledore, younger brother of Albus, Hogwart's late Headmaster. His accent was different from his brother's, and apparently he'd been disturbed by all the arrivals. Then the last of the smoke blew away and Cho noticed: herself included, there were only five members of the Army there.

Aberforth, meanwhile, had pulled aside a painting to reveal a tunnel. The three Weasleys and Lee Jordan rushed to enter. Apparently they hadn't even seen Cho.

After a few seconds Aberforth grumbled at Cho, "You waitin' on an invitation?"

"Erm, no, I mean, thank you." Cho dashed into the tunnel herself, afraid of crossing the old innkeeper any further but not sure what she had done wrong.

xxx

She hung back as she walked the length of the tunnel, which somehow connected to Hogwarts—she was sure of that. She heard Lee Jordan trying to chat up Ginny Weasley; they had gotten together after she broke it off with Michael Corner, and he was trying to see if she was still interested.

Poor sod, Cho couldn't help but think; all of that topsy-turvy with boys she never cared about was Ginny's way of trying to catch Harry's eye. Now she's got it, and Lee has to know that. Why is he trying to speak with her now? I wonder if Lee will end up as bitter as Michael was. I wonder how Michael's recovery is progressing.

I wonder … Harry.

She stopped in the tunnel for a second, letting the voices of the others fade ahead of her. Harry had to have called this meeting; the Army was his idea, it couldn't keep on without him. The students tried it, and the school nearly killed Michael and Merlin knows who else. When I come out of this tunnel, wherever it's taking us, he'll be the first one I see.

And then?

She felt her cheeks burning, remembering the sneers Harry aimed at her after Marietta's betrayal of the Army. This is probably the worst time to think of this, she mused, walking without really seeing the tunnel, guided by the dim light ahead as a flame draws a moth. But it's two years since we said a word to each other; mummy's right, that's too long. I have to see his face, what it looks like the moment he sees me. I have to see his face. Then I'll know what he's thinking, I'll know if he still can't forgive me.

I have to see his face.

As she drew closer to the end of the tunnel, the light of the entrance wasn't what caught her attention; it was the voices. There were more than just the students she'd followed; much of the Army seems to have answered the call. In that moment, she forgot about Harry's face and rejoiced in the courage that led her to come when called. She didn't hesitate; it was too important. Then again, she had more reasons than most.

As she neared the entrance she heard one of the twins talking about the Hog's Head and Aberforth. Could more be coming? How many had come now? And where had they come to?

Lee Jordan had just stepped into the room, and he surely saw what Cho saw: Ginny Weasley, all smiles, rushing up to Harry, who didn't touch her, didn't kiss her. He glared at her, like a Prefect catching a rule-breaking student in the act.

That can't be bad, Cho decided, and stepped into the room.

It had to be the Room of Requirement, where the Army had spent most of its time learning the essential Defense spells that Umbridge refused to teach. She recognized the high vaulted ceilings, the arches from which one December night hung a sprig of mistletoe…

Then she remembered to look at Harry.

There he was, scar and all, as she knew he'd be. He wasn't sneering, nor was he smiling. Later she would describe him as looking "gob-smacked." One thing was certain: somewhere along the way, he'd stopped hating her. For that reason, and many others, too many to explain, she smiled.

"I got the message," she said, holding up the Galleon on its fine chain. He still didn't say anything, staring as if she was the last person he expected to see.

Maybe he still blames me after all, she thought in a panicky second. She started to say something else to him, but a movement along one wall caught her eye.

It was Michael Corner, sitting on a bench, with a couple of other Ravenclaws. But Michael looked terrible; even worse off than he'd been in January when Cho had nursed him for a week. She sat down beside him.

"They said Harry was coming back and calling the Army," Michael said in a low voice. "I'm glad to see you here."

"Well, I'm not glad to see you. It's like you've undone everything since January! What happened?"

"The Carrows happened. You know about them?" Cho nodded; she'd been briefed when she came to Hogwarts months before. "Well, they rather objected when Terry Boot stood on the table in the middle of supper and started telling everyone about what happened at Gringotts."

"How did he hear about it? I thought sure the school would try to keep quiet about it."

"The Carrows and Umbitch and Snape can all control the owls and the Floos and everything else they can find, but they do miss the pitch now and again. Boot's parents were shopping in Diagon Alley when it happened. By the way…"

"Yes, Michael, I saw it! I saw it all; it was amazing."

"We were beginning to wonder if Terry was gilding the dragonlily. But he just kept on about how Potter was seen riding the dragon…" Michael paused and looked at Cho, who glanced over at Harry, deep in conversation, then nodded. "Cor," Michael said under his breath. "Anyway, Boot was telling the tale, and at the same time deflecting spells that were coming at him from the Carrows, and even a few Slytherins. And maybe he figured that he was under attack anyway and had nothing to lose. He actually starts singing about Harry, to the tune of 'Rule, Brittania!' You should have heard…" Michael's chuckle turned into a wince of pain; he doubled over, clutching his stomach. "Well, one Slytherin catches Boot in the back with a Stunner, rotten little coward. I Stunned him, then they got me. I don't really remember after that."

"I'd say you were hit by three or four Stunners. Are you sure you feel all right?"

"All things considered, never better. The Army's back and Harry's here to lead it!"

Cho glanced over at Harry, braced by (of course) his two shadows, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley. A minute before he had been talking with Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan, but now it was between the three of them, as so many things had been over the years.

"Okay!"

Harry's sudden call to the room silenced everyone as they looked to him.

"There's something that we need to find; something … something that'll help us overthrow You-Know-Who. It's here at Hogwarts, but we don't know where."

Is he sending us on a treasure hunt, then, Cho wondered.

"It may have belonged to Ravenclaw."

Cho wasn't certain if her heart had missed a beat or was going faster than ever before. This is it, she told herself; this is why I'm here…

"Has anyone heard of an object like that? Has anyone ever come across something with her eagle on it, for instance?"

Cho traded puzzled looks with Terry, Michael, and Padma Patil, who'd joined her fellow Ravenclaws. The answer, though, came from Luna Lovegood, who was—of all places—perched on the arm of a chair which Ginny Weasley inhabited like a queen on her throne.

"Well, there's her lost diadem. I told you about it, remember, Harry? The lost diadem of Ravenclaw."

The lost diadem of Ravenclaw! Cho had read about it two or three times in _Hogwarts: A History_—usually in passing while trying to find out about the history of Quidditch in Ravenclaw. But now she recalled what little history there was about the diadem.

Luna kept on: "Daddy's trying to duplicate it…"

Michael spoke up next to Cho: "Yeh, but the lost diadem is _lost_, Luna. That's sort of the point."

"When was it lost?" Harry asked anxiously.

The Snitch had just popped up in front of Cho's face, and she grabbed it: "Centuries ago, they say. Professor Flitwick says the diadem vanished with Ravenclaw herself. People have looked, but nobody's ever found a trace of it, have they?" She looked at the others of her House, who nodded in agreement.

Weasley spoke up: "Sorry, but what _is _a diadem?"

If Michael hadn't rolled his eyes toward the ceiling, Cho might have followed suit. It was a rather dim thing to ask.

"It's a kind of crown," said Terry, who Cho could tell was just as disgusted with the question but hid it well. "Ravenclaw's was supposed to have magical properties: enhance the wisdom of the wearer." Again, any Ravenclaw would have known about how, every few years, someone would try to market a cheap imitation diadem as a study aide to naïve First Years. Of course, by the time their O.W.L.s rolled around, they knew the history and couldn't be fooled.

Luna was trying to say something about Wrackspurt siphons, but Harry cut her off.

"And none of you have ever seen anything that looks like it?"

Cho at first shook her head with the others, then stopped herself. Of course we've never seen it, but we've had a good guess staring back at us all the years we were here. And Harry doesn't know about it, because he's never been in Ravenclaw! The Snitch had appeared again, offering itself to Cho, and she seized it.

"If you'd like to see what the diadem's supposed to look like, I could take you up to our Common Room and show you, Harry. Ravenclaw's wearing it in her statue."

For a moment, Cho thought a smile started to form on Harry's face; but then he winced in pain and touched the famed lightning-bolt scar on his forehead. Cho stood out of reflex, as ready to help Harry as she was to help Michael or anyone else. The embers, long banked in her heart, had flared back to life at the sight of Harry in pain. She knew now that she could face the Carrows, or Snape, or the Dark Lord Himself. She would do it because she loved Harry Potter, and only death could change that.

Harry, meanwhile, seemed to recover somewhat from whatever was attacking him, and he held a short conference with his shadows. Then he turned to Cho. Again, she seemed to see a smile start to form on his lips…

"NO!" Ginny Weasley; of course. Still balled up in her chair like an angry and disturbed cat, she turned to Luna Lovegood and said, "Luna will take Harry; won't you, Luna?"

"Ooooh, yes, I'd like to!" Luna gushed, as if Christmas had just come early.

Cho, feeling as if Christmas had decided not to come after all, sat heavily back down next to Michael. Harry and Luna then followed Neville Longbottom to a cupboard, which had a staircase inside it. "That wasn't here last time," she whispered to Michael. "Does that lead to Ravenclaw?"

"Sometimes." Cho gave him a puzzled look. "It leads somewhere different every day. Risky, but almost impossible for Snape and the Carrows to find. It's come in handy."

Cho didn't say anything; she just sat on the bench, looking down at the stone floor and wringing her hands.

"Friend to friend," Michael whispered to Cho as Harry and Luna disappeared into the cupboard, "don't let Ginny get to you, because that's just what she wants." Cho looked over at the chair, where Ginny was now conversing with some of the Gryffindors, while shooting the odd glare at Cho and Michael. ""She wants you to think she's whipped Harry for good and all."

"Whipped?"

"Don't worry; if she'd really done it, she'd be all smugness and high and mighty."

"But, whipped? She beats Harry?"

Michael chuckled. "Erm, that's not exactly what it means." He leaned closer to Cho and whispered in her ear. As he did so, her face passed through several different shades of red. Finally, she whispered, "You're joking, right? You think they had-"

"I have no idea," Michael said, "but don't forget I used to date that little bint. And I wouldn't put it past her."

The blush still hadn't entirely left Cho's cheeks.

xxx

To be continued in part 13, wherein reinforcements arrive and the Battle of Hogwarts begins in earnest…


	13. Chapter 13

CHO CHANG'S EIGHTH YEAR

By monkeymouse

NB: JKRowling built the Potterverse; I'm just redecorating one of the rooms. And one of the great things about JKR telling the story from Harry's point of view is that stuff could be happening all over the wizarding world that Harry isn't aware of.

Rated: PG

Spoilers: Everything

xxx

13. The Gathering Storm

Everyone watched in silence as Harry and Luna entered the cabinet. Neville closed the door, waited a few seconds, and almost as if he was a stage magician at the Palladium, opened the cabinet door again, revealing an empty box.

"How long do you think?" Cho asked Michael.

"No saying. I tried it a couple of times myself; once it took me to the Restricted section of the library, and once to the kitchen. It changes its route daily, but not to please you. You have to follow wherever it goes. We can only hope they won't be too far from Ravenclaw."

"And Luna can get Harry there, right?"

"You know her as well as any of us. Sometimes, well, she seems a few scales short of a dragon, but she's actually got nimble wits. Wouldn't have been Sorted into Ravenclaw otherwise."

"Can I ask you something, Michael?"

"Of course."

"Well, you were seeing Ginny Weasley for a while, and then me, and…"

"Did I ever have a go at Luna? Never, and for one reason: nobody ever gave me a guide for translating Luna into English." He saw the frown start to form on Cho's forehead. "Look, you have to admit: some of the things she comes up with are nonsense at best, madness at worst."

"That's as may be, but still, she's a very kind person and a Ravenclaw. It wasn't fair for any of us to just dismiss her."

"Well, there was a lot of that going around; still is. But it doesn't seem to have done her much harm"

"And what does that mean?"

"That she went through her kidnapping ordeal as if it was a spring shower."

"Kidnapping?"

"Hasn't anyone told you?" Cho shook her head. "And I guess it never appeared in the Prophet. Well, her father had finally started making sense in the Quibbler about Harry and the Ministry, so, in order to stifle the old man, they kidnap Luna on the way home for the Christmas hols. Took her right off the Express! They locked her up in the Malfoy family mansion, along with Ollivander…"

"He's alive, then!" Cho burst out. "Thank Merlin for that! I mean, his shop still looks like it was attacked by a mob, and nobody's come to claim it or anything."

"Well, long story short, Harry sailed in and got Luna and Ollivander out of there. Funny he hasn't surfaced again, although he is getting on, and if they did to him half of what they did to me…" Michael closed his eyes and took a deep breath, perhaps to keep himself from shivering at the memory.

"He's probably best off hiding wherever he is."

"Except it's a bloody shame he can't help us out now. We could use a few hundred high-powered wands."

"I don't think that's the way Ollivander works. I remember when he sold us my wand."

"I think we all remember that, although I'm not sure now why it would be memorable."

"Just something novel, I think. Anyway, he spent a lot of time rummaging around in the back room before he brought out some boxes of wands. The second one I tried was exactly right; it felt perfect."

"And what was it?"

"Willow, eleven inches, with hair from a unicorn's mane."

"Sounds about right."

Cho almost giggled at Michael trying to sound like he was older than his eighteen years. "What's about right, oh man of the world?"

"Well, unicorns always seem to go together with beautiful maidens."

"Michael, that joke isn't especially funny."

"You'll notice I'm not laughing, either. Cho, please, listen to me." She noticed that Michael was looking at her with an expression she couldn't place at first. Just as the word 'wistful' suggested itself, Michael spoke again: "Don't worry, I'm not going fishing in the same old pond again. I know your heart is tied to another, for good or ill. And I wish you luck in that department; I really do. But, well, you have to know how pretty you are. You really are as pretty a girl as you are talented as a Seeker. And I know you don't deny one, so you shouldn't deny the other, either."

Cho was silent for a minute. She could never get used to moments like this; she almost panicked at the World Cup when Mackie told her how Roger Davies felt about her. Why was that…? NO! This was the worst time to worry about such things! Harry would be back soon, and the war against Voldemort would begin in earnest.

"Michael," she finally said in a soft voice, "you really have become a good friend, which is why I'll believe you when you say…"

"BUGGER!"

The rude interruption came from Fred Weasley. He was pacing angrily up and down the Room of Requirement. Cho looked at the clock and realized that Harry had been gone for fifteen minutes. "Neville, I don't like this."

"Look," Neville answered back, "we haven't heard any alarms or anything…"

"And you're saying we should wait? For what? We could be getting the rest of the Army ready now, so we don't waste time when they get back from their scavaenger hunt."

"Diadem hunt," Ron interrupted his brother.

"Thanks for the useless reminder, little bro." George started to round on Fred, and so did Hermione, but Fred shouted over them. "That's just what I mean, innit? We're not getting anything done here and we've lots to do with not much time to do it. So get on the Galleon and get the others here!"

"Fred, it's not as if it's a Howler," Hermione started, but George cut her off.

"And while you're at it, Neville, get your gran to round up the Order. Tell them about the Hog's Head tunnel, and that it's life and death." The room fell silent when he said that. "Well, it probably will be."

Neville crossed the room to work whatever spells he had to. Michael started to say something, but Cho stopped him.

"In all honesty, Michael, how strong are you? Can you fight at all?"

"Do you need me to?"

"I'm not asking as if I'm a Sergeant Magus. I'm asking as your healer, and your friend. How much can you handle?"

"I'd love a chance at the Carrows; get a bit of my own back."

"What if it's worse?"

Michael stopped a minute, looking down at his shoes. "I've had two bad attacks this year; you got me through the first one, and I'm still working on the second. At some point I'll just have to get out of harm's way, but I'm in the battle until that point."

"Michael, I know you're loyal to the Army, but you're no use if you're…" Cho couldn't say the word.

"Cho, believe me, if I have to pull back to Hogsmeade, I will. Maybe I can get my mum to help."

"Your mother?"

"Yeh. The only reason I haven't told her anything yet is because she'd pull me out of Hogwarts for letting myself get caught and being a stupid prat. Then she'd come back and have the Carrows hanging from the Astronomy Tower by their thumbs. I told you she's in the Department of Mysteries, didn't I? The things she knows…"

"GINEVRA WEASLEY!"

Four Weasleys were already in the Room of Requirement, and it was obvious that three more had arrived through the tunnel. The parents were trying to get past the knot of Fred, George, Ron and Hermione Granger blocking their way, while Ginny tried to hide amongst the others. Then, of all people, the Beauxbatons Champion from the Triwizard, Fleur Delacourt, came in, with the eldest son Bill Weasley, who looked much more the worse for wear than Michael Corner.

Molly was fussing over Ron, as she hadn't seen him in months. She was commenting on him growing so much taller (which he had), almost as tall as the twins (which he wasn't), and how he now really favoured his father's good looks (which the twins tried to tell her was a matter of opinion).

"I'll deal with you in just one minute," Molly Weasley started, but was interrupted by another voice.

"Right; who's in charge here?" The deep, booming voice could only belong to Kingsley Shacklebolt; he came out of the tunnel, closely followed by Professor Lupin.

"MY GRANDSON!" came a voice from inside the tunnel. Its owner appeared a few seconds later: an elderly but wiry old woman who despite the May weather was dressed in a green velvet coat that touched her ankles, with fox fur trim and an old-fashioned hat topped with a stuffed vulture.

"Gran!" Neville shouted. "You got my message, then?"

"Don't sound so surprised, boy. I just hope you haven't called us all here on a fool's errand."

"No chance, gran. Harry said You Know Who is definitely on his way here now!"

"Good; then we can finish this." Mrs. Longbottom started rummaging through her purse, ultimately producing a wand. "I have some scores to settle."

"Listen, Augusta," Mrs. Weasley started, "and no offense intended, but this lot could be more dangerous than you're used to…"

"Dangerous! This is a sad crop of Death Eaters, Molly. Thanks to me, Dawlish is still in St. Mungo's; who have you incapacitated lately?"

"Ladies, please!" Shacklebolt put himself between the two arguing women, which Cho thought was the bravest thing she'd seen tonight. "The past is prologue, as the Muggle said. Once Harry gets back from wherever, we need to contact the Heads of Houses."

Just then, more members of Dumbledore's Army arrived: all three of the Gryffindor Chasers. Angelina Johnson and Katie Bell came in almost together, but after a few seconds they were followed by Alicia Spinnett, and—this was the biggest surprise to Cho—with Oliver Wood in tow!

"Back in a moment, Michael," she said, "but I have to find out what this is about."

Oliver Wood was obsessed with Quidditch at Hogwarts, almost to the exclusion of everything else. If it didn't involve two Bludgers, a Quaffle and a Snitch, it just didn't interest him. He had graduated the year before the Triwizard, and found a spot playing for Puddlemere United, but, even if he had stayed the extra years, there was no way anyone would have thought to recruit him for Dumbledore's Army.

"Hello, Chang," he said with a friendly smile. "Didn't think you'd still be Seeking here."

"Erm, actually, I'm not; I got out last year. But seeing you here…" She left the sentence hanging.

"Yeh," Oliver chuckled a bit and (if Cho wasn't mistaken) he started to blush. "I was at my place and Alicia was, er, visitin'." The blush intensified. "Anyway, she'd told me about the Galleon some time ago, but when it went off tonight, well, Hogwarts expects every wizard, eh?"

Alicia interrupted. "You'd better go talk to Neville Longbottom; he's Captain of this team."

"Ah; right. Good to see Gryffindor is well represented." He worked his way through the growing crowd to Neville.

Before Alicia could say anything, Cho asked, "Visiting?" She didn't even try to hide her smile.

"I was asking him about vacancies for Puddlemere!" Then Alicia smiled, too. "Among other things. It's the oldest magic in the world, isn't it? As you know, I'm sure."

"Yes." She didn't want to talk about Harry; still unanswered questions there.

"They're saying Harry's here in Hogwarts?"

"Well, he was. Then he went off looking for, erm, something that used to belong to Rowena Ravenclaw; don't ask me why. He should be back soon."

No sooner did Cho say these words than the door opened, and Harry and Luna stepped in. Harry actually seemed in shock and slipped down the stairs to the floor. He'd been gone for—heavens, a half-hour! Didn't it occur to him that the Army would keep coming?

After exchanging a few quick words with Professor Lupin (as Cho still thought of him, even though he was no longer on faculty) and one of the Weasley twins, Harry climbed back up the stairs As soon as he did, the other twin yelled out "What first, Harry? What's going on?"

This was the question everyone wanted answered, and everyone there believed that Harry Potter had the answer.

"They're evacuating the younger kids," Harry shouted to the crowd in the room, "and everyone's meeting in the Great Hall to get organized."

Organized for what?

"WE'RE FIGHTING!"

That was all it took. Everyone in the room shouted as if a Snitch had just been captured. They rushed for the door trying to get to the Great Hall. Cho fought the crowd a bit to get to Luna, who might be able to supply a few details.

She caught up to Luna and asked, "What's going on?"

"All the statues are mobilised for defense. The Heads of Houses are on our side, and Headmaster Snape is off for parts unknown. Isn't it thrilling? I think we actually have a chance!"

Just as she finished her sentence, Lee Jordan appeared out of the mob heading toward the stairs, grabbed Luna's hand, and pulled her into the surging crowd.

That was rather rude, but Cho couldn't find time to worry about that now. She made her own way up the steps with the last of the crowd. It did satisfy her to look over her shoulder and see that Ginny Weasley was still being scolded by her mother, while Harry pointedly looked off in another direction.

She climbed the stairs, stopped at the door, turned back, and saw, of all wizards, Percy Weasley stumble out of the tunnel!

As Cho rushed down the corridor to catch up with the others headed toward the Great Hall, she only had one thought: I have to tell Penny about THIS!

xxx

To be continued in part 14, wherein the war begins, and Cho summons some help…

A/N: Shacklebolt is quoting "the Muggle" William Shakespeare, who wrote in _Julius Caesar_ "What's past is prologue; what's to come in your and my discharge." And Oliver Wood paraphrases Lord Horatio Nelson before the Battle of Trafalgar who signaled the fleet "England expects that every man will do his duty."


	14. Chapter 14

CHO CHANG'S EIGHTH YEAR

By monkeymouse

NB: JKRowling built the Potterverse; I'm just redecorating one of the rooms. And one of the great things about JKR telling the story from Harry's point of view is that stuff could be happening all over the wizarding world that Harry isn't aware of.

Rated: PG

Spoilers: Everything

xxx

14. Why I'm Here

By the time Cho got to the Great Hall it looked like Platform 9¾: most of the students were dressed in travelling clothes, and a handful of adults tried to keep some form of order. Some of the younger students were close to dozing off, and others looked ready to burst into tears.

She made her way to the Ravenclaw table and quickly found Professor Flitwick, checking with the Prefects to be sure all of the dormitories were empty.

The diminutive professor's eyes lit up when he saw her. "Miss Chang! This is a surprise, although a slightly ill-timed one."

"Is everyone accounted for?"

"Almost. I'm still waiting to hear from a Prefect who's supposed to have brought a group of girls down, but they're taking a deucedly long time about it."

Something made Cho ask, "Which group?"

"Second Year girls." He said it with a sigh, as if that group had been a thorn in his side for months.

Cho smiled, which puzzled Professor Flitwick almost as much as her next words: "Miss Anand?"

"Erm, yes, but how did…"

"Leave them to me," Cho said, then dashed off without a word.

As she ran through the halls of Hogwarts toward Ravenclaw Tower, Cho felt strangely giddy. Here they were facing death and destruction at the hands of the most evil wizard who ever drew breath, and she felt giddy. It was because she recognized what was happening, because it had happened to her.

Her very first class on her very first day in her very first year in Hogwarts, she had gotten into an argument with Professor Snape, and had cost Ravenclaw twenty points. She almost laughed at herself now, for thinking that twenty points was such a catastrophe. But she barricaded herself in her dormitory room out of shame, and a Prefect had to talk her out of it. That Prefect was Penelope Clearwater, who she'd just met the day before on the Express.

And here she was with the role reversed. She was now the voice of reason, and the anxious young Ravenclaw girl who'd thrown a dragon-bone in the works was Sarasvati Anand. Just like Cho, Anand (who everyone called Sara) was so anxious to play Quidditch for Ravenclaw that she'd tried out for the team last year despite the rule against First Years playing. She had the impudence to break rules, or at least bend them, which Cho had recognized in herself.

Cho didn't have time to reflect much further; she found herself back at Ravenclaw's tapestry, although things were a bit different. Under Snape's regime as Headmaster, Ravenclaw House had added to its own security, asking a riddle instead of requiring a password. Cho hoped this would be an easy one, lifted a corner of the tapestry, and knocked once.

A voice came from the statue of the eagle mounted by the tapestry: "Fear is born from joy, and fear gives way to safety."

Too easy, Cho smiled. "Patronus."

The door opened soundlessly. Cho dashed into the Common Room, then up the steps to the girls' dormitories. At the Second Year girls' room, a young witch with a Prefect badge, frizzy red hair and a thick Scots accent was trying to talk through the door.

"Miss Anand, please; ye canna stay there!"

"Yes we will!" came a voice on the other side of the door. "All night if need be!"

"Sorry, but allow me," Cho whispered. The Prefect, who recognized the Ravenclaw Seeker, stepped back. Cho then pounded on the door. "Open the door, Sara!"

There was a silence inside the room, then the voice: "Captain Chang?"

"Fine; you recognized my voice. Now do another sensible thing and open the door!"

Again a moment of silence. "You're here to fight, aren't you?"

"Right now I'm here to get you and whoever's in there with you out! Hogwarts isn't safe for a Second Year tonight!"

Another moment of silence, then Cho heard a muttered Locomotor spell through the door, moving whatever barricade they'd put up. Cho tried the door and it opened.

Sara Anand wasn't wearing Hogwarts robes or a travelling cloak. Instead, she had put on a beautiful sari in Ravenclaw blue, with orange and gold decorations all over. Her raven-black hair, like Cho's, hung down her back, actually touching the backs of her legs.

Before Cho could say another word, Sara sheepishly said, "We wanted to fight for Hogwarts; it's our school."

"And we all admire that," Cho smiled back, suddenly realizing she had no idea who "we" were. "And if there were only seven Death Eaters wanting to get up a Quidditch game, I'd let you stay. But this is war, and that means a battle to the death. And a war is no place for children. The school's evacuating every underage student, so you're hardly alone."

"It still doesn't seem fair," Sara muttered, although some of her dormmates glanced nervously at the stairs or the window.

"You may be Ravenclaws, but you haven't even taken your O.W.L.-level classes yet; it wouldn't be fair to send you up against murderers, either. Come with me, please."

"Can't we wait it out here?"

Cho sighed. Was she as frustrating at that age as Sara is being now? "Do you trust the Dark Lord to leave one stone on top of another when he does attack Hogwarts?" Cho let the question hang in the air; the young Ravenclaw girls all knew the answer. "Follow me, then."

"Excuse me," the Prefect asked, "but follow ye where?"

"There's an escape tunnel in the basement that will take you all the way to Hogsmeade; your parents can Apparate with you from there. But only a few of us know where it is, so stay close to me."

Having finally gotten through to Sara, Cho watched the young witches gather in a ragtag group behind her. She walked them as quickly as she could through the castle.

"I wanted to fight," Sara muttered as they walked down the flights of stairs.

Cho turned to her. "And I want to see you play Quidditch one day. This way, one of us gets our wish, and I promise nobody will think less of you for leaving."

"But you don't have to be here. Why are you doing all this?"

"Because, when I was new to Hogwarts, a Ravenclaw Prefect helped me through a couple of bad patches. She and I became fast friends for years, and maybe you and I can be as well."

"I know witches who wouldn't do that."

"Then they must be witches who don't believe in karma."

Sara didn't say anything at first; then, hesitantly, she reached up and took Cho's hand in her own, like a child seeking the touch of her mother.

It was all Cho could do to keep down her tears of joy; she wasn't sure Sara would understand.

xxx

The Room of Requirement's shelter in the basement was almost empty when Cho got there. Michael Corner, still recovering from his beating earlier, couldn't do much more than turn his head.

"Ah; reinforcements."

"Bad time for jokes, Michael."

"Sorry, ladies; no offense. Look at me; I'm stuck here. You at least can get someplace safe."

Cho opened the portrait, revealing the tunnel. Sara looked at the dark opening, then nervously back at Cho. "This is safe, right?"

"Let's make sure," Cho smiled. She then addressed all the girls: "If any of you can do what I'm about to do, you can stay and fight, alright?" Sara and a couple of girls nodded. Cho turned back to the tunnel and, without words and without a wand, created a Patronus. The larger than life swan flew into the tunnel, even though it seemed at first too big to fit. Its silver light shone like a lantern as it glided silently down to the other end in Hogsmeade.

"That should clear away anything hiding in the tunnel. Now get going!"

Sara was the first one into the tunnel. She stopped and turned back to the others. "You heard Captain Chang! Come on!" She then turned to Cho; "See you next year," she smiled.

"One way or another," Cho smiled back, "I'm sure you will."

The Prefect, a Fifth Year (Cho found out) named Anais Macroom, was last to leave. She actually shook Cho's hand. "I hope I can be as good at this as ye are."

"I had a good teacher," Cho smiled. She watched the Prefect vanish into the tunnel.

"Maybe I should go with them," Michael said. "I can't do a Patronus like that, either."

"Ðo you think you're safe here?"

"Safe enough, I reckon. There's a lot of castle up there, and, even if it takes direct hits, it's not going to collapse down here. I've got Shield Charms ready, though, just in case."

"Ah." Cho sat down next to Michael, looking down at her hands. She was so busy working her fingers she didn't even look up when the Slytherins, escorted by Argus Filch, trooped into the room ("That's a first", Michael muttered) and into the tunnel.

They watched the Slytherins leaving Hogwarts, most of them with their eyes fixed forward, refusing to look at anyone else. Now and then, though, some of the younger students turned to look behind, or over at Cho and Michael, before they left Hogwarts. One of the last students, who couldn't have been older than twelve, looked straight at the two Ravenclaws and mouthed the words "I'm sorry" before he entered the tunnel.

"The nerve of that little git," Michael muttered. Then he noticed Cho had her hands over her mouth, as if stopping herself from crying out. "What?"

"He gets it, Michael. Don't you see? He gets it." Cho bit her lip, attempting to keep from crying. "This war is based on a lie. It's foolish to believe that there's any real difference between Pureblood and Muggleborn and anything else."

"That's easy to say, but…"

"Michael, look at me! Look at my parents! They're Pureblood going back generations; I'm Pureblood. But the Ministry won't recognize that. We're indulged, tolerated, dismissed as if we were Muggle tourists. Our pure blood means nothing."

"I can't believe anyone who knows you feels that way."

"There are thousands of wizards and witches in London alone, and I can't persuade them all myself. The Ministry has to change!"

"No argument from me, but, before we start spreading the truth about blood purity, we have this little matter of a battle to get through."

At that moment the Ravenclaw evacuees started filing in. Professor Flitwick walked over to Cho and Michael. "The Second Years, Miss Chang?"

"Got the girls safely out of here ten minutes ago, before the Slytherins came down."

"Good; excellent. Let me see to these children; then I have some defensive spells to cast." He turned away, paused, turned back, then took one of Cho's hands in both of his tiny hands. "I never had a chance to say this, but the Sorting Hat did a good day's work when it put you in Ravenclaw. Thanks for everything."

"I should be thanking you, Professor, and Hogwarts. Please be careful."

"It's a war, Miss Chang; one can only be so careful." The professor then went back to the Ravenclaws queueing up to enter the tunnel.

Almost as soon as he walked away, Cho said, in a low voice, "We have a battle to get through."

"Well, yes," Michael replied, "but what…"

She jumped up off the bench while he was speaking, ran to the hearth in the room, took a pinch of Floo Powder from the bowl on the mantel, and tossed it into the hearth. As the flames roared up, she shouted: "The Chang Residence, Diagon Alley!" After waiting a few more second, she shouted again: "Xuexiao wuye! Xuexiao wuye! Xuexiao wuye!"

The fire died down. Cho went over to Michael just as the Hufflepuff evacuees were arriving.

Michael spoke first; "I assume that was for your parents, but what did you tell them?"

"The school at midnight. I've been missing for hours; I assume they've been waiting to hear from me, and I think they'll understand my message."

"But you didn't tell them about the tunnel!"

"I didn't have to. They have their own way of getting here."

"You know they can't Apparate onto the grounds!"

"They won't! They're going to drop down out of the sky! I have to go meet them." Cho then took Michael's face in both hands and kissed his forehead. "Be careful." Then she ran from the room, leaving a doubly-stunned Michael Corner on the bench.

xxx

To be continued in part 15, wherein the battle is joined…

A/N: Just by way of checking, I looked up the name of Macroom, the Ravenclaw Prefect in this chapter, and found that Macroom is a town in County Cork, in the south of Ireland. It's said that Macroom is "the town that never reared a fool." It makes sense that a witch from there would be Sorted into Ravenclaw.


	15. Chapter 15

CHO CHANG'S EIGHTH YEAR

By monkeymouse

NB: JKRowling built the Potterverse; I'm just redecorating one of the rooms. And one of the great things about JKR telling the story from Harry's point of view is that stuff could be happening all over the wizarding world that Harry isn't aware of.

Rated: PG

Spoilers: Everything

xxx

15. The Battle of Hogwarts

Just as Cho got to the top of the stone steps leading into Hogwarts, she could see Professor Flitwick at the base of the steps, working one charm after another to protect the school. When she was halfway down the steps she saw him stop and look up into the night sky.

"Professor! Wait!"

She didn't look up; she didn't have to. But she had to make sure that nobody tried to hex her parents.

"Miss Chang…"

"My parents, Professor. They've come to help."

As she spoke with Professor Flitwick, Cho kept one eye on the two figures floating down out of the midnight sky. Cho had never even knew her parents owned such clothes. Her father wore a blue outer robe with a white robe underneath; his outfit was completed by a dark blue skullcap on his head and the sword of Lu Dongbin fastened to his belt. Lotus wore a violet-colored outer robe with a pale blue robe underneath. She carried the sheng of He Xiangu in her arms, but there was so much material in the sleeves of her robe that she could have carried the sheng there.

"Erm, Professor," Cho said, after finding her voice, "These are my parents, Xiemin and Lotus. Mummy and daddy, may I present the head of Ravenclaw House and Charms Master, Filius Flitwick."

Cho's father stuck out his hand and Professor Flitwick shook it. "Sorry we haven't had a chance to meet before now. Aren't you the author of "Olde and Forgotten Bewitchments?"

Cho had no idea her father even knew that. As soon as he said it, Professor Flitwick's face lit up like a sunrise. "A youthful effort; very youthful. It's kind of you to mention it."

Lotus likewise shook his hand. "Cho has had nothing but good things to say about you and Ravenclaw House."

"Yes, well. I have nothing but fond memories of your daughter, and I wish we could share them some other, happier time. But, if I don't get some more protective charms in place…"

"Understood, Professor," Chang Xiemin said. "Good luck to you."

"Good luck to us all," the professor said, as he dashed onto the lawn waving his wand and calling out spells.

As soon as he was gone, Cho's parents turned to her. Lotus was at her coldly formal worst. "After what happened at Gringotts this morning, I would have thought you'd stay close to Diagon Alley. What possessed you to come here?"

"It was a summons, from Dumbledore's Army. I couldn't stay away."

"You're saying Harry Potter's here?"

"Well, he is now. The summons came from the Army's interim leader, I guess you'd say; Neville Longbottom."

"We don't need all of this storytelling," Lotus said huffily. "Isn't the school supposed to be under attack? We didn't dress like this for a fashion parade, you know."

At that moment, flashes of light and muted explosions came from somewhere in the Forbidden Forest. It was midnight. The war had begun.

"Well, Cho," her father asked, "you certainly get a voice in this. Stay here or go to the forest?"

Cho couldn't help but feel proud that her father trusted her judgment in this. "The forest. It'll be hard for both sides, but the further we can keep the Death Eaters from Hogwarts, the better."

"Good decision." With that, the elder Changs began a brisk run toward the forest, leaving Cho in her school robes barely able to keep up with her parents, who seemed to almost fly over the grass.

Once they were in the forest, they were only able to move about fifty yards in when a roar off to one side and the crack and rustling of a falling tree brought them up short. In the darkness, they could still make out too easily the silhouette of a giant, standing twenty feet tall, with a dozen Death Eaters moving with it, using the giant for cover as they cast curses in all directions.

This was when the elder Changs brought out their weapons. Mister Chang swung his enchanted sword in the direction of the Death Eaters; five or six of them lost limbs or their heads before they realized they were under attack. The giant, however, seemed not to feel any of the blows.

Those Death Eaters not cut down at once tried to find where the swordsman was. Missus Chang gave a cold smile and began to play the sheng. She set them spinning as if they'd been hit with a Tarantellegra, and they found themselves being moved toward each other, where, again, the sword of Lu Dongbin made short work of them.

Still, the giant seemed unfazed by these weapons, and, once the Death Eaters who surrounded him were cut down, he looked around to try to find the enemy.

"We need to pull back!" Cho whispered harshly to her parents. "At least until we figure out what to do next."

The night was dark enough, and the giant was tall enough, that he couldn't see the Changs in retreat. They slipped into a moraine in the forest where they could hope for shelter while they figured their next move.

Cho's father wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. "I don't like hiding like this, but I'm foxed," he said. "I never fought a giant before, and I don't understand why the sword isn't working."

"There weren't giants in China, then?"

"Long ago. There's a legend of one giant who tried to find where the sun went at night, but he died from exhaustion chasing the sun day after day. It was his foolishness killed him."

"This one doesn't seem to be a fool," Lotus muttered.

Just then, there was a rustling in the brush. The Changs didn't even have time to react to it, when through the brush burst a centaur, carrying a bow and arrow. He turned and fired three arrows in rapid succession; as they hit their mark, a howl went up.

The centaur turned toward the Changs. He just looked impassively at them, saying nothing. Cho noticed that he seemed to have cuts or scratches over much of his body. "Do you need help?" she asked.

The centaur answered in a voice that, despite the urgency of the moment, was as slow and soft as a falling leaf. "This was done by bushes and brambles. If it had been done by the werewolf I just killed, I would not be speaking to you now."

Something about the voice triggered a memory in Cho. "Professor Firenze?"

"And you are the girl who said Divination was rubbish."

"Professor," Cho interrupted, "I'm sorry to cut this short, but you see we have a giant problem. Do you know how we can deal with the giant?"

The centaur looked unblinking at the Changs for about a minute, not saying a word. When he spoke, it was with the soft, otherworldly voice Cho remembered from their first encounter. "How high can that sword reach?"

"I don't know, truth to tell," Cho's father said. "I've always fought level with my enemy. I suppose I could go up ten feet without losing control."

"It would help if the giant were immobilized."

"I can help with that," Lotus said.

"So can I," Cho added.

"Then you must strike at all sides of the giant. If you hit him only on one side, he will just become used to the pain and recover. You need to get on my back."

Cho was stunned. From what she knew, centaurs were a proud race, and refused to be considered beasts of burden; and here one was asking to be used like a draft animal. "Are you quite sure, Professor? It seems rather…"

"At the moment, nothing matters but the safety of Hogwarts and everyone in it. If we win this night, there will be time enough to deal with wounded feelings. We must hurry."

Chang Xiemin, with an agility Cho did not expect, leapt onto the centaur's back, holding onto the centaur as best he could with one hand while the other wielded the magic sword. Lotus, for her part, played the sheng in an effort to keep the giant immobile. She was aided in this by Cho, who called up a Swan Patronus that flew near the giant's head and shoulders, causing it to be distracted. The giant kept trying to swat at the Patronus, forgetting the sword-wielding man on the centaur for the moment.

It was a mistake. As the giant was distracted by the Swan Patronus and held immobile by the music of the sheng, the swordsman riding the centaur swung again and again. He opened cuts in the giant's stomach, ribs and back. Professor Firenze added his arrows to the damage done by the sword. They kept this up for ten minutes before the giant started feeling the pain and loss of blood.

Mister Chang finally saw one of the signs he was looking for: the giant staggered, unsteady on his feet. Firenze, followed by Lotus and Cho, made for the moraine, and got to its shelter just as the giant fell on his face, causing tremors that made them all lose their balance. It took another minute for the giant's raspy breathing to turn to a death-rattle in its throat.

After a minute of silence, Cho's father turned toward the centaur. "Couldn't have done that without you. You have my undying thanks."

"As a stranger to Hogwarts and to my kind," Firenze replied, "I thank you as well. I need to check on my tribe now. I hope we meet again after the battle."

Before any of the Changs could reply, the centaur turned and galloped into the forest.

"We'd better head back to Hogwarts," Mister Chang said after another minute. "Don't think less of me, but I'd just as soon fight someone a bit closer to my size."

"I don't want to repeat that, either," Cho said.

They walked for about fifteen minutes before they reached the edge of the Forbidden Forest. They only took a few steps across the lawn before Cho realized that, despite the dark of night, she could see into the Great Hall. Holes had been blown in the walls with such force that it was essentially open to the sky. Lit torches burned on the few standing walls, lighting up the scene inside; wizards and witches passed in front of the gaping holes with wands that cast their own glow.

"We missed the battle," Cho said.

"Speak for yourself," Lotus replied.

Cho couldn't see everything going on at Hogwarts, but she could hear it. The sounds carried, and they were distressing. People wept and screamed and moaned over the injured and the dead. Names of victims were shouted out, but not their whole names; thus, Cho had no true idea yet who had been killed than night.

She hadn't taken three steps toward the castle when Cho felt a hand grasp her shoulder; she turned, her wand raised to defend herself. It was pointing right between her mother's eyes.

"Sorry, mummy," Cho said sheepishly.

"That's one time I'm glad your reflexes aren't so good," Lotus smiled.

"I'm glad this isn't happening during Quidditch season," Cho smiled back.

Lotus led her daughter to the base of the stone steps at the castle entrance. James was already waiting there, wrapping a bandage around his upper left arm.

"Daddy, are you all right?"

"Of course; I'm right-handed, after all. I can still handle this." He briefly held up the sword of Lu Dongbin. "I just wish I didn't have to carry it into battle at all," he sighed.

"I'm glad you did," Cho said, "and I'm sure Professor Firenze is, too."

"I'd like to know more about him," Lotus said, with a lilt in her voice that told Cho her mother had something specific in mind.

"Well, I don't know much, really," Cho said, thinking back on days she'd thought were forgotten. "After the Tournament, and Cedric, I decided Divination was rubbish and never took it. Wait for it, mummy!" Cho said, since her mother looked as if she wanted to interject. "Anyway, later that year, Umbridge sacked Professor Trelawny, the Divination master, and Dumbledore hired Firenze to teach it. I think he knew how terrified Umbridge was of centaurs." Cho smiled to herself for a moment. "One day I wandered into his classroom. I was still tearing myself up over Cedric, and he said something to me; I can't even remember what now, exactly. But the terrors left me after that."

"A wise man," Cho's father nodded.

"Not everyone sees centaurs that way."

"Dear, you should know by now about appearances," Lotus said. "So many times people take what they see as real, even if it's an illusion."

"On that subject," James started, then fell silent. Through the cool night air it came again; the voice of the Dark Lord.

"You have fought valiantly. Lord Voldemort knows how to value bravery."

The voice was so cold, and sounded so close, that Cho and Lotus couldn't help but feel fear rise up. Chang Xiemin saw this and spoke up: "Translation, This fight wasn't the doddle he expected."

Lotus looked stunned, but Cho couldn't stop herself from giggling. She knew her father had a wry sense of humour, but this was the last place she expected to hear it.

"You have sustained heavy losses."

"Just not heavy enough for my side to keep on."

"If you continue to resist me, you will all die, one by one."

"Not that I'll have anything to do with it, of course."

"I do not wish this to happen. Every drop of magical blood spilled is a loss and a waste."

"Especially mine, which is looking more and more likely."

Lotus was now also trying very hard not to laugh.

"Lord Voldemort is merciful."

"And Minister Thicknesse is brave and virtuous."

Cho muttered: "The toad." Her parents stared at her in surprise.

"I command my forces to retreat immediately. You have one hour. Dispose of your dead with dignity. Treat your injured."

Lotus looked at the others. "Shall we? Merlin knows they need a healer for those who are wounded."

Cho nodded, but before she could say anything else, the voice started up again.

"I speak now, Harry Potter, directly to you."

Cho thought, also as if talking directly to Harry: Be careful; it's bound to be a trap.

"You have permitted your friends to die for you, rather than face me yourself. I shall wait for one hour in the Forbidden Forest. If, at the end of that hour, you have not come to me, have not given yourself up, then battle recommences."

Cho's father again muttered under his breath, with deadly seriousness this time; "They'd be fools to believe that. His forces won't wait."

"This time I shall enter the fray myself, Harry Potter, and I shall find you, and I shall punish every last man, woman, and child who has tried to conceal you from me. One hour."

The Changs stayed where they were, not moving or speaking. Yet somehow each knew what the others were thinking. Lotus looked at her daughter, more searchingly than she ever had before. "We all heard what You Know Who just said about Harry. So we have to ask: how well do you know him?"

Cho realized that this was a question with dozens of others packed into it. She could be careful, or she could be honest.

"Well enough to have dated him for a few months. We walked each other to and from classes. We talked about our day, our families, our hopes for the future."

"Families?" Lotus arched an eyebrow.

"That was Harry. He would go on about how beastly his Muggle relatives would treat him. Like he was trying to work himself up to hate them, but … he couldn't. Not enough to, you know, do anything to them."

"Good." Lotus had closed her eyes, yet seemed to be looking at something, or reading an invisible book. After a minute, she opened her eyes. "Cho, think about this next question, and answer with complete honesty. From what you know of Harry, can he go on a quest within himself? Can he find the center of himself, see what it says, and learn from it in the time remaining?"

"Mummy, do you really expect him to understand our ways?"

"I thought at least you would understand," Cho's father said. "What have you learned this year from your mother?"

Cho knew that this was no longer about walking on teacups or holding a note on a flute.

"There are many quests Harry can take," Lotus said, "and those many quests are really one quest. He has minutes to see and feel and know what many adepts back home took years to understand. Take and push him out of your heart, Little Horse, if you love him; because you love him. Push him out so that you can see him as he is."

As much as Cho wanted to remember the good times she'd had with Harry, she knew she wasn't being asked to remember those. This was about Voldemort; this was life and death.

Cho sat for a minute with her eyes closed, trying very hard not to think about Harry, yet keeping him in her mind. She wasn't there with him; she just looked at him.

After another minute she opened her eyes. "I saw him."

"And?"

"And he is an old man in the body of a young man. He's been on more quests and dwelled in more labyrinths than I ever will. All I know about his future is that he has one." Cho started to lose her composure. "He's going … going to be … all right."

Cho was on the edge of bursting into tears when Lotus took her hand, squeezing it tightly and looking squarely into Cho's eyes. They seemed to hold a silent conversation until Cho's father spoke up.

"Hogwarts, then," he said, standing and stretching. "The wounded need us." Together the three of them climbed the steps into Hogwarts.

xxx

To be concluded in part 16, wherein the battle is ended…


	16. Chapter 16

CHO CHANG'S EIGHTH YEAR

By monkeymouse

NB: JKRowling built the Potterverse; I'm just redecorating one of the rooms. And one of the great things about JKR telling the story from Harry's point of view is that stuff could be happening all over the wizarding world that Harry isn't aware of.

Rated: PG

Spoilers: Everything

xxx

16. Seeing Harry Potter

There hardly seemed to be a pane of glass intact anywhere in Hogwarts, and crumbled masonry lay all about the front doors, and partly blocked the entrance to the Great Hall. The Changs stepped around the debris and into the hall. Near the door sat Madame Sprout, who with her eyes closed might have seemed to be asleep if she wasn't fanning herself with an elephant's ear frond. Cho went to her.

"Madame Sprout?"

The Head of Hufflepuff House opened her eyes a crack, then wider when she saw Cho and her parents. She stirred herself slightly, but didn't stand.

"Forgive me," she said somewhat weakly. "Thought I was still young enough to fight for Hogwarts; seems I thought wrong."

"Are you all right, Madame?"

"Just winded, dear."

"My parents and I are herbologists; it's the family trade, you know. Is there any way we can help?"

"Well, the wounded are at the end of the hall where the head table was, and I daresay Madame Pomfrey can use some help. Now's the time, isn't it, while we wait for the next wave?"

"If I may say so, Madame," Lotus Chang said, "you're taking all this quite well."

"And if I may say so, Missus Chang, you didn't live in London during the Blitz. This is bad enough, but, Merlin help me, I've seen worse."

"Of course. I'm sure we'll meet more properly in a happier time," Cho smiled.

"Miss Chang?"

"Yes?"

"I have a message from Cedric."

The blood in Cho's veins froze. "Cedric?"

"Yes. It was a dream of some sort, I think. This morning I woke up, and there was his voice in my head, just as I remember it. He said he had a message for you."

"Wha … what is it?"

"He said, 'Tell Cho Li that I don't want to find her in the Great Hall when the sun rises. She has a long and busy life ahead of her, and she shouldn't waste even a day of it.'" With that, Madame Sprout closed her eyes and leaned her head back. Once again, the only sign of life in her was fanning herself with the elephant's ear frond.

"Why shouldn't you be here in the Great Hall?" Cho's father asked.

Lotus answered instead. "Don't you ever listen? The wounded are being treated up there. So this room is for the dead."

There were only about fifteen to twenty people laid out on the floor, and Cho was surprised to find both friends and foes treated with equal respect. But then, Dumbledore would have wanted it that way. She recognized Professor Lupin; he had grown older and more haggard, but also looked more at peace now than he had as a teacher at Hogwarts. She thought she saw one of the worst faces ever to glare from a WANTED poster: the werewolf Fenrir Greyback, but it turned out on second glance to be another werewolf. Cho didn't know whether to feel worried or not.

She also saw the body of one of the Weasley twins laid out; his brother seemed inconsolable, as members of the Weasley family stayed near the body. One of these was Percy Weasley; Cho made a mental note to tell Penny Clearwater about this too.

The raised platform had become an improvised hospital wing: beds with occupants on one side, those less severely hurt in chairs or sitting on the beds on the other side, waiting for treatment. Madame Pomfrey had just returned with a beaker of potion. She seemed surprised for a moment, but then walked up to the visitors. "Another Quidditch injury, Miss Chang?"

"Not today, thanks," Cho smiled back. "Madame Pomfrey, these are my parents. We came to defend the school, and now we're wondering if we can help out here."

"Not much to choose from, I'm afraid. The Death Eaters have a rather limited repertoire: almost everyone here has had the Killing Curse thrown at them. Luckily they missed the mark, but we still have to sort out the consequences. One girl was savaged by a werewolf, and I'm afraid she's rather touch-and-go. Have you had any experience?"

"No, sorry," Cho's father said. "China never really had werewolves, except on the far western frontier. You'd have to go to the Baltic to find them."

"Pity. Well, I need to get back to these patients."

"And you'll need to be quick about it. Personally, I don't expect the Dark Lord to honour his promise to wait an hour."

"Mother! Father!" Cho had spotted a patient at the edge of the platform: Firenze the centaur, who had helped them defeat a dozen Death Eaters and a giant only an hour before. He was bleeding heavily from a cut in his left flank. He couldn't stand, and couldn't even speak, drifting in and out of consciousness.

Cho's father called Madame Pomfrey over. "Can't you do something about the bleeding? He's going into shock!"

"I'm afraid I was never taught about the arteries in a horse…"

"Damn the arteries! We've got to stanch the bleeding!" He turned to his wife, but Lotus was already rummaging through the potions Madame Pomfrey had brought from the hospital wing.

As Lotus set the bottles and a cauldron down next to her husband, she said, "We can make do with these, but we're still missing the main ingredient."

"Cho! Where's your herbalist?"

"We just spoke with her coming in."

"Does anyone else know plants?"

"Erm, excuse me," a tall, thin and nervous-looking boy approached the platform. "Plants are my special interest. I'm no Healer, though."

"You will be tonight, lad, if your greenhouse has caterpillar fungus."

"Yes, we do. Don't do much with it, though."

"Tonight you can save this centaur's life with it. Bring back as much as you can, as fast as you can!"

The boy turned and dashed out of the Great Hall.

Lotus turned to her daughter: "Do you know that boy?"

Cho nodded. "He's Neville Longbottom. His parents fought against the Dark Lord during the last war, and he took over Dumbledore's Army from Harry."

"Begging your pardon, Mister Chang, Missus Chang," Madame Pomfrey interrupted, "but there are others who need looking after…"

"Fine; go look after 'em," Chang Xiemin muttered as he started pouring potions into the cauldron.

"But I, I don't think it's wise to waste our time and energy on…"

Just then, Neville returned with a double armful of caterpillar fungus. "Well done, lad. Now tear them up and throw them in the cauldron."

"Shouldn't I chop them or…"

"No time for niceties; he's lost too much blood already!"

While Neville tore up the fungus, a task which grew harder the more he got onto his hands, Lotus created a fire under the cauldron. Cho looked around the platform, saw a goblet and grabbed it. "Are you sure this is safe?" Madame Pomfrey asked, as the potion in the cauldron turned from red to white. When it did, Lotus cut off the fire and Cho dipped the goblet into the potion.

"Cho," Lotus said, "make sure he drinks half the goblet. Then another half-goblet at three hour intervals, Madame." While Cho took the potion to Firenze, her father wiped his bloody hands as best he could with a towel as he spoke to Madame Pomfrey.

"Caterpillar fungus has been used in China for centuries as a coagulant; it'll stop the bleeding from within. This potion also has immune-suppressant qualities; keeps him from doing himself a mischief by trying to heal too fast. It also balances the coagulant so that blood continues to flow, and the effects will wear off in a couple of days, once the artery is healing."

"This is still rather strange," Madam Pomfrey said.

"Is it strange to save the life of a member of the faculty?"

"Of course not, but he is a…"

"He helped us defeat twelve Death Eaters and a giant in the woods. I would say he's earned some respect, no matter what he is."

Chang Xiemin sat in a chair by the wall, looking as exhausted as Madame Sprout had when they entered. His wife and daughter joined him.

"What do we do now?" Cho asked.

"Wait," her mother said. "It's between Harry and You Know Who now. No matter what happens, I doubt the Death Eaters will give in without a fight."

The hour was almost up. What would happen after that was anybody's guess.

xxx

They heard, more than saw, what happened next: the bellowing amplified voice of Voldemort proclaiming Harry Potter's death.

"He's bluffing," Cho's father said under his breath. "He doesn't know or believe most of what he's saying."

In a voice they almost couldn't catch, Cho said, "What about the rest of it?"

Cho sat in the Great Hall, registering nothing now but the smell of the wounded centaur's blood. She couldn't bear to move, even though she wanted to look at him, needed to look at him…

until she heard Professor McGonagall's anguished cry.

That was it, then. It's over. Daddy knew and didn't want to tell me but it's over. I missed my last chance to tell him how I…

"CHO!" Her mother spoke in a harsh whisper, digging her fingers into Cho's shoulders. "Can you see him?"

"I … I've already seen one dead boyfriend. That's enough for a lifetime…"

"Listen to me, Little Horse. I didn't say look at him; I said see him!"

As more and more cries rose up from outside the castle walls, from staff and students lamenting the death of Harry Potter, and Voldemort gloating over it all, Cho finally realized what her mother was saying, realized why she seemed so detached. Cho closed her eyes, focused her mind beyond the castle walls, and looked for Harry.

Even though Harry was being held in the arms of Hagrid the half-giant, Cho could tell the two of them apart. A blue light, roiling and shining like a volcano about to burst, was in the giant's arms.

Cho looked up into her mother's face: "His chi?"

Lotus nodded, trying not to smile.

Cho buried her face in her mother's robes, because she didn't want anyone to see her grinning, almost laughing. Alive! her brain kept shouting to itself: Alive! Alive!

"Now do you want to look at him?" Lotus whispered.

Before Cho could answer, there was shouting from the lawn outside. The Changs made their way to the entrance, which they expected to be crowded with onlookers, but these were already outside, on the steps and on the lawn. They were ready to defend Hogwarts.

The Dark Lord was disputing something with Neville Longbottom; suddenly, he paralyzed the boy, Summoned a hat (which Cho told her parents was the Sorting Hat) on Neville, then set it afire. This was one outrage too far, as the Hogwarts defenders and centaurs and wizards from Hogsmeade and others from Merlin-knows-where closed on the Death Eaters, suddenly trapped between two forces.

As the second stage of the battle started, Cho, who once she got to the main door never took her eyes off of Harry, saw him pull out a cloak and then use it to vanish. Only from sight, as it turned out; she could still see his chi.

A sudden flash of light and motion, and Neville had drawn a sword from nowhere and used it to slice the head off of the gigantic snake that Voldemort wore like a coat. She wasn't sure she wanted to, but Voldemort seemed so affected by this that she tried to see his chi. It was almost too small to be seen: one bilious green spark. In that instant, Cho knew the truth: it's over. He's a walking dead man. Harry has won!

She and her parents couldn't stay where they were, however; with the battle raging between the Dark Lord's giants and a fierce attack by a hippogriff and—Cho's mind froze for a second—a herd of black skeletal horses, the like of which she had never seen before. These flying beasts so harried the giants that both armies were at risk of being trampled, so the battle turned into a rout of both armies seeking shelter in Hogwarts.

Being the last ones to arrive at the door, the Changs were also first inside. Cho grabbed at both her parents and steered them to an almost hidden door opposite the Great Hall, where she pushed them in and closed the door.

Her parents were stunned; they found themselves in a forest, or at least a room enchanted to be very much like a forest. They both looked at Cho.

"This is Professor Firenze's classroom," she explained. "I suppose he needs it like this to feel at home. I've only been in here once, when he spoke to me about Cedric."

Her father, who had been looking around, turned to Cho. "Are you proposing we hide in here?"

"NO! Excuse me, daddy, but we're going to need a minute to regroup, aren't we?"

They listened at the door; sounds of fighting were diminishing.

"I think they've cleared out by now," Lotus said, drawing the sheng of He Xiangu from the folds of one of her voluminous sleeves. "Shall we?"

Xiemin drew the magical wooden sword of Lu Dongbin from his belt. "It's where we're needed."

Cho opened the door, and they stepped out of the classroom, dashing for the Great Hall.

xxx

It was no longer a war but a riot, with friend and enemy packed into the Great Hall like commuters in the Underground. By being the last in, the Changs were able to make short work of seven or eight Death Eaters, with Cho culling them away from the riot with her Patronus, while Lotus disarmed and disoriented them with the sheng and Xiemin delivered the final blows. They stopped when a shout went up, cries of "HARRY!" He had been wearing that cloak, Cho thought; it must be off now.

For the first time since they'd spoken of the Diadem, she heard Harry Potter speak; it was to say "I don't want anyone else to try to help!"

The Changs understood what had happened. Harry had been on a vision quest, and, armed with what he had learned, had come back, armed with the knowledge to take down the Dark Lord. They knew now that all they could do—all that anyone in the Great Hall could do—was watch.

And they watched as Harry told Voldemort about what had happened. And Cho knew, without being told, that Harry was wielding the sharpest blade in the room: the truth. Harry knew Voldemort's plan, and had countered it, step by step, and as he spoke Cho could feel Harry's words chipping away at Voldemort, reducing a mountain of evil magic to a pile of gravel…

and they drew their wands, and they pointed, and they commanded their magic.

And Voldemort fell, no longer a living wizard but an empty husk.

xxx

Being at the outer edge of the crowd, they saw that it would take an hour to move the few yards to be with Harry Potter, since hundreds of others wanted to do the same. Cho's parents looked at her; she smiled, shook her head, and gestured to them to follow her. The family went out onto the lawn, now a brilliant green under a brilliant rising sun.

"Well?" Lotus asked.

"Well, what?"

"Are you going to try to speak to Harry?"

Cho had wondered about that many days this year. He's seemed to have gotten over his mistrust of Marietta, but there was still Ginny Weasley in the picture. She didn't want to have to face that now.

Instead she turned to her parents. "It's been a long night for all of us. Let's just go home. Besides, if someone like Harry Potter doesn't want to be found…"

"Good point," Cho's father said. "Do you think we can declare this a holiday, close the shoppe until tomorrow, and get some rest?"

"Sounds like just what the herbologist ordered," Lotus said.

Cho, between her parents, walked out of the castle, even as students and faculty were rushing up or down the steps outside, running wherever. None of them tried to stop the Changs.

Cho spoke up suddenly as they were crossing the lawn. "I've been thinking about my life," she said, "and I know this is a rotten time to talk about it. But I wanted to tell you what I decided."

Her parents didn't say anything, so Cho went on.

"We all know that Voldemort's war was based on a lie; on the notion that wizards who weren't Pureblood were somehow less than true wizards. And, even though a lot of us refused to believe it, we didn't exactly work to get the message out that Voldemort was lying."

Mister Chang spoke up: "Well, between the Death Eaters silencing the dissidents and the Ministry controlling the Daily Prophet…"

"But Voldemort is gone, for good this time, and the Prophet can print the truth, assuming Minister Thicknesse gets run out of office. Otherwise there's too many who still believe in blood purity, and it can all start all over again."

"I'm afraid to ask this," Lotus said with a sign, "but how does that concern you?"

"It's simple, mummy. I go down to Tutshill, take them up on their training offer, knowing as we do that they'll have an opening for a Seeker. Then I play Quidditch; that's the easy part. And I know I can be a better Seeker than anybody in the league today. So I make a name for myself, the press will want to interview me, and when they do I talk to them about how this preference for Purebloods is a lie. Simple."

Cho's father chuckled; "Except for one or two steps in the middle there. They'll stop interviewing you if you just keep giving the same speech about Purebloods, you know."

"Then I just tell them something different each time. It can't be that hard."

"And if Thicknesse stays the Minister?"

"He can't, mummy; he just can't. I know that people will be working against that starting this very day, including Harry."

"He may want to get some sleep first; I know we all should," Lotus said. "There's time enough for your big plan in a few days."

"You think I'm not serious?"

Cho's mother stopped, and put her hands on Cho's shoulders. "I think you're absolutely serious about trying to change our ways for the better. You have no idea how proud of you we are." She pulled Cho toward her in a fierce hug. When she was done, Cho stepped back, biting her lower lip, tears welling up in her eyes, unable to say a word.

After a minute, Cho's father said, "Time to step off, then."

As they did at the World Quidditch Cup, Cho, between her parents and grabbing onto them tightly, took two short steps and, at the third, bounded up into the sky, headed for Diagon Alley and home.

xxx

A/N: Officially, this is the actual end of my rewrite of the Harry Potter Saga as the Cho Chang Saga. But then there's that pesky Epilogue…

I wrote this fic in part because I saw Cho as one of the few non-western heroines in western lit for young people. I also saw the Cho/Harry ship as sweet, awkward, poignant, and natural; the difference between butterflies and the Chest Monster. Not only did JKR side with Harry/Ginny, which is her right, but when asked about the Ravenclaw Seeker reduced her to (in my opinion) an offhand dismissal: "Cho married a Muggle," which raises as many questions as it answers. This cannot stand.

Therefore, even though I should know better, I have decided to post TWO Epilogues: one based on the Cho/Muggle idea, and one based on JKR's epilogue but bringing Cho into it as well. Coming soon!


	17. Epilogue 1

EPILOGUE I: "CHO MARRIED A MUGGLE"

By monkeymouse

NB: JKRowling built the Potterverse; I'm just redecorating one of the rooms. In this case, though, since I'm speculating on the Potterverse without guidance from JKRowling, it's more like I'm building a new wing onto the house.

Rated: R for brief sexual content

Spoilers: None

xxx

Cho stayed remarkably close to the plan she outlined to her parents at Hogwarts. She joined the Tutshill Tornados as a Reserve Seeker, then in six months time was able to play her first professional match. In the interim she practiced harder than she ever had at Hogwarts. She saw that the level of play in professional Quidditch was much faster and much more aggressive than she was used to. She also saw that newspaper accounts of a match bore little resemblance to what really happened on the pitch.

Cho's training mixed Quidditch practice in Tutshill and sessions in the basement walking on teacups. One discipline sharpened her for the other, and in November 1998, when she played her first match as a Seeker for the Tornados, still using her old school broom, the crowd went from amused laughter to stunned silence to hearty cheering in short order. Quoting a piece that appeared in the Christmas Annual edition of "Which Broomstick," their Welsh correspondent wrote: "A Seeker who is about to turn twenty, riding a Comet 260. This sounds like a May-December marriage doomed to fail. And yet Chang of Tutshill achieved miracles during her debut—nothing less. We expect to see continued stellar performances from her."

Cho, however, was as good as her word. She was indeed sought out by the press—from the "Prophet" to sporting magazines, from "Witch Weekly" to "The Quibbler." In each interview, she never failed to work in the history of some stellar Quidditch player, past or present, who was Half-and-Half or even Muggle-born. It never overshadowed her performance, but she saw that it always made it into print—or, in the case of the Wizarding Wireless Network, on the air.

She also spent the first two years shuttling back and forth between Tutshill and Diagon Alley, helping her parents out in the shoppe three days a week on average. Finally, there was a bit of a family row at Christmas 1999, when Cho's mother suggested that she move out of the family home; in fact, out of Diagon Alley altogether. "There's no need to come over so often," Lotus said. "We can certainly take care of ourselves. We've had enough practice at it." They yelled at each other for several hours until Mister Chang tried to calm the troubled waters. "You're twenty years old now, and you should do what people your age do. Go out on your own, see to your own meals and hobbies and entertainment. You'll always be welcome here, of course, but you've still got some growing to do."

Cho had actually been thinking the same thoughts since she joined Tutshill, but hadn't wanted to seem as if she was deserting the family. So, with their knowledge and blessings, she went on her 21st birthday to an agent, who showed her a small fourth-floor walkup apartment. She furnished it, placed her books on Chinese and British magic on the shelves, and (one of the reasons for getting this place) setting up a roost under the eaves for Quan Yin.

After five years with the Tornados, Cho announced her retirement from Quidditch. She wasn't injured, and she was only about twenty-five years old. Nor did she say that the game had become boring; the way she played proved she didn't believe that. All she would say was a variation of what she told "Which Broomstick": that "there's something else I need to do." She just didn't yet have an idea what that might be.

Also in her twenty-fifth year the Daily Prophet carried the announcement that Harry Potter was marrying Ginevra Weasley. Harry, who had been something of a globetrotting Auror for the Ministry since leaving Hogwarts, announced his intention to settle down in his home on Grimmauld Place.

Cho had sent him several owls over the years, but he never answered. He was most likely out of the country, Cho decided; either that, or Ginny intercepted the messages.

Harry and Ginny's wedding was a private ceremony in the house at Grimmauld Place. Dozens of gifts from well-wishers came to the house, including a rare book: a limited edition copy of Eunice Murray's autobiography, "The Broom Gets All the Credit." This edition had been suppressed by the Ministry; in the mid 20th century, the wizarding world was supposedly not ready to learn that Eunice Murray's secretary had also been her lover.

The book contained no inscription to indicate the sender; just a plain white card. Inside the card, at the bottom, an ink drawing of a swan circled endlessly; above it was the simple message: "May Heaven bless you, Harry Potter. RS"

Harry understood at once: RS stood for "Ravenclaw Seeker"; he had taught the Ravenclaw Seeker in Dumbledore's Army to produce a Swan Patronus. He hid the book in plain sight, among a dozen other Quidditch books. He kept the card in a locked drawer of the desk in his study. Some nights, when the house was asleep, he would take out the card and just look at the swan drawing, swimming back and forth.

The night of the wedding, as celebration went on in Grimmauld Place until after midnight, Cho Chang walked down Grimmauld Place, stopped in front of Number 12, and softly said, "Goodbye, Harry."

Cho and Harry never saw each other again.

xxx

She had a small circle of friends who she saw; mainly, other women she had known at Hogwarts. These included Penelope Clearwater, Marietta Edgecombe, and Diana Fairweather. Penny, whose parents were both on the faculty at Cambridge, lived with them; the others, like Cho, lived in their own apartments scattered near London's West End theater district. Once or twice a month, they would spend an afternoon shopping, attending a matinee, or having a late lunch. They usually went to a restaurant where the waitstaff were aspiring actors who would sing for the diners who requested showtunes. Cho would usually request a song titled "We've Got Magic To Do;" it was a private joke.

Cho didn't know about musical theatre just by going to matinees. She found a hobby that was also a way of spending some of the money she made as a professional Seeker—and it was a lot of money. She gave half of it to her parents, and used the rest for rent, food, clothing, theatre tickets, and music. Specifically, she bought a top of the line compact disc player, a good pair of speakers, and a collection of CDs that eventually numbered well over a hundred.

Cho's musical education was improvised: if she found someone whose music she liked, she bought more discs by that person. She also ended up buying a lot of disappointing discs, some just for the cover art, but she could never bring herself to throw them away once she'd bought them. Eventually, a used CD store opened up just a few doors down from The Three Broomsticks, on the Muggle side; that was where she ended up buying a lot of discs.

That was also where she met Ryan Lin.

xxx

Once or twice a week, depending on her time and finances, she would stop into "Twice Around," the used disc store, to see what was there. Turnover was slow to leave but quick to arrive; Londoners sold used discs back to the shop and other discs arrived weekly, mostly from overseas. The two-man staff, both Asian, was busy cataloguing the incoming discs, and finding shelf space for them. There was always something playing over the shop's system.

This was one of the main reasons Cho liked to hang about there. None of her witching friends followed Muggle music, so she was on her own. She'd spend the better part of the time there looking through rows and rows of discs, to see if a familiar name caught her eye. Sometimes, she'd find a jewel case with interesting artwork, but she soon learned that the quality of the art seldom matched the quality of the music. So the first few times she was there, she ended up being served by Jeremy, who always seemed distracted by one thing or another: other customers, the telephone, the weather. He seemed to be the older of the two storekeepers, but also the more scatterbrained.

She finally was served by Ryan on her fifth visit to the shop. At the time, she noticed that she was, like herself, an Asian in his mid-twenties. He thought that she was very pretty, and she thought he was rather handsome. As he was making change for her purchase, though, a fight broke out near the door, where Jeremy had grabbed hold of a couple of teenagers who were trying to sneak out with discs in their coats. Fortunately, a constable was just outside; unfortunately, it took so long to sort out that, as the constable left with the teens in tow, Cho left also, without her change.

About two weeks later she went back to the shop, but left almost at once when Ryan put a Metallica disc on the store's sound system. Ryan had definitely noticed this strikingly attractive woman whose tastes were absolutely unpredictable and who apparently owned no plastic and always paid in cash. She would be a much harder customer than most to get to know, so he started an experiment, watching for her to come in, then switching the music on the store system to try to find what caught her attention. He tried first by playing whatever was on Top of the Pops, not realizing that Cho wouldn't have heard any of these bands on the WWN. Then it was dance music, then modern jazz.

What finally did the trick was an accident. Cho was shuffling through some discs when Ryan was asked to preview an old, somewhat edgy jazz disc of music by George Russell. It had only been on a few seconds when Cho looked up with—and Ryan recognized it—a look of recognition; she knew this tune. More importantly, a look of fascination: she wanted to hear more! Ryan got the customer a clean copy of the disc and kept that one playing. As soon as the customer left, Cho approached the register.

"I, I know that tune," she began, rather hesitantly. "Miles Davis, isn't it?"

Ryan checked the disc; the first track, "Nardis," was still playing. "Yeh, he wrote that," he said in a kind of Cockney accent, "but this is a different arrangement."

"Very different," Cho nodded, "and I rather like it. Who's performing that?"

"Bandleader named George Russell. Interesting bloke; tried to invent his own music theory."

"Can you DO that?"

They chatted about the music for ten or fifteen minutes before Cho bought the disc and left—but not before Cho and Ryan exchanged names. The rock had finally started rolling down the hill; now it was just a matter of time.

All the little formalities followed that: longer chats about topics other than music, then about each other. Ryan was ethnically Chinese but his parents had come over to London from Malaysia; like Cho, he was the first of his family born in Britain. Cho, for her part, told just enough of her story not to violate the Secrecy Statutes; she said she'd gone to school up near the Scottish border, talked vaguely of sports as a hobby but couldn't pretend to have ever played anything Muggle; it would have been too easy to check. So those first few dates meant Cho was walking a tightrope: there was only a little she could say, and a lot that she couldn't.

Still, she mentioned that one boyfriend in school had been killed in an accident, and another had left her after a few months for somebody else.

"So, you're lookin' about, eh?"

"I hadn't thought about it," Cho said, sipping her coffee, "until recently."

At that moment, both Cho and Ryan had made up their minds to see how far this might go; Cho, however, was still on a tightrope.

So it went for a few more weeks, each one inching closer and closer to the other, until one night, at two in the morning, Penny Clearwater got a Floo call. "Penny, it's Cho."

Penelope Clearwater was in her bedroom but walked in her nightgown to the parlour where the hearth was connected to the Floo Network. She was surprised to see Cho looking like some sort of aboriginal, squatting in front of the grate, resting on the balls of her feet. Also like some sort of aboriginal, Cho was naked.

"Erm, Cho, are you all right?"

"Never better," she smiled.

"Ah. Then I suppose you and Ryan…" Cho nodded. "He's not still there, is he?"

"No, he just left. Had to drive out to Heathrow, pick up some discs from America for the shop."

"And did you, well, did he take you where you were supposed to go?"

Cho's smile broadened slightly. "We took each other. Four times."

"YOU JAMMY LITTLE THING!" Penny squealed; if she could have, she would have reached into the grate to hug Cho's image. "Well, come on, then."

"What?"

"Details! Details!"

"In a minute. I called about something serious."

"How serious?"

"Penny, have you ever told any of your friends?"

"About being a witch? Never."

"Why not?"

"Not because of the Statutes, certainly. Mostly because, well, it just never came up."

"But you could have mentioned it."

"A bit tough to work that into the conversation. 'Who do you favour in the by-election? Oh, by the way…'"

"I know," Cho sighed. "And it was one thing to have a boyfriend who was a wizard, but Ryan … well … I really love him."

"No doubts?"

"Only about what I'm going to do. I HAVE to tell him; it just doesn't seem right to keep it from him, but we've grown up hearing all these stories about Magic-Muggle marriages going wrong."

Penny yawned despite herself. "Sorry. Maybe we'll think clearer in the light of day."

"I doubt it, but can I call back later if I'm still confused?"

"Of course! If two Ravenclaw girls can't figure something out…"

"You're a great friend, Penny; thank you."

"You can thank your great friend by telling her all the DETAILS!"

xxx

They talked on and off until just after noon. Cho was determined to tell Ryan about herself, and knew it was dangerous territory. Still she felt better after talking with Penny about it.

Six o'clock that evening, Ryan knocked on Cho's door as they'd planned. All they'd agreed was that Cho would serve them another home-cooked meal and then "see what happens." Yet, as soon as Cho opened the door, they were in each other's arms, lips together as if glued. Part of Cho wanted to forget about the plan, at least for one more night. But then her apprehensions got the better of her.

"Ryan, wait. Sit down, please; we have to talk."

Ryan, looking puzzled but not annoyed yet, sat on the sofa. Cho pulled a chair away from the dining table and sat across from him.

"Ryan, I've thought about last night a lot, and, believe me, I want to be with you. But there's something you really have to know about me first. There's something about me I've been keeping from you, something that affects both of us…"

Ryan interrupted: "Oh, cripes; you're positive, ain't yeh?"

"What? NO! This isn't a disease! I mean, it's more like a genetic thing. Nobody understands it, really…"

"Cho, where are we going with this?"

"I'll just tell you, then," Cho sighed deeply. She looked down at her hands, then into Ryan's eyes. "I'm a witch."

Ryan was silent for a few seconds, then said, "You mean that lot that goes out to Stonehenge?"

"I didn't say Wiccan; I said a witch. I'm a traditional, broom riding, spell casting, mixing up potions in a cauldron witch. Been one all my life."

Again Ryan sat still, for a few seconds. Then, without the expression on his face changing a bit, he straightened one leg, pointing his foot straight at Cho.

"RYAN!"

"Go on; pull it, then. The sock's got a goat's head in a pentagram on it!"

"I'm serious!"

"Well, I can't exactly take yer word for it. Do something; something … witchy."

"No, I won't. There's nothing I can do now that you'd believe, no matter how much magic is involved. You'd probably say it was a stage illusion I'd rigged up today."

"Fine; then we can have the demonstration at my place."

"No good, for the same reason. You'd think I snuck in there today." She walked over to where Ryan was sitting and put her hands on his shoulders. "I hate being blunt about this, but: Ryan, do you love me?"

He reached up and took her hands in his. "Came as a bit of a surprise to me, but, yeh, I do."

"Then you'll have to trust me; the only way you'll believe what I say is if you step into a world that's been hidden from you: my world. A place where you can see hundreds, thousands of witches and wizards."

"What do you mean, a Black Mass?"

"No," Cho smiled, "a Quarter-Final."

"A what?"

xxx

"Good evening witches and wizards, and welcome to the first quarter-final match for this year's Quidditch Cup. It's an all-Welsh match tonight, as the Tutshill Tornados defend their league championship against the Caerphilly Catapults. The Cats are having a bang-up year so far, but nobody has ever seen this seven against the Tornados. It could be anybody's guess who catches the Snitch."

That Saturday, just at sunset, Cho and Ryan, who had spent the previous night and most of the day at a bed and breakfast in Tutshill, walked across a field to a stadium Ryan knew hadn't been there the day before when they drove down from London. Not only did they recognize her, but ticket-takers and stadium staff called Cho by name; they wanted to let her in for free, but she insisted on paying for herself and Ryan, using coins the like of which he had never seen. Cho and Ryan had brought some bottled water from town, but they bought some biscuits and cheese (from a Caerphilly cheesemaker who'd just started sponsoring the Catapults that year) and took a seat.

Cho tried to explain Quidditch to Ryan, but every time the announcer mentioned a term he didn't know, Ryan asked about it, so her explanation was rather disjointed. In the middle of that, while waiting for the match to begin, something like a Jumbotron screen appeared to hover over the pitch, and on the screen were Cho and Ryan!

"And here's a face familiar to the home crowd. Seeker Cho Chang, who helped give the team five cups in a row during her time, has come back to watch the quarter-final, and brought a right handsome friend for company. Give them both a hand, and let's try to give them a really bang-up match tonight!"

They kissed publicly—very publicly—for the first time; Ryan's head was swimming, not totally because he was trying to understand Quidditch.

Just then more than a dozen people flew into the stadium on brooms: seven in green robes, seven in powder-blue. The referee blew a whistle, and threw something golden, small and almost invisible into the night sky above the pitch.

xxx

Forty-five minutes later, Ryan still sat slack-jawed and staring straight ahead after watching his first Quidditch match. The stands were emptying, but Cho sat next to him, waiting for him to … do or say something, anything.

Finally, she asked, "Ryan, how … how do you feel?"

"How do I feel?" he said with more than a little bitterness in his voice. "I feel like Marco F***ing Polo, thanks for asking. Like I just travelled across the known world, hoping to show off the glories of European civilisation, and I get to Beijing and the guard says, 'Civilisation? Sorry, mate, but we got one of those already. But you're welcome to stop by the gift stand on your way out, maybe get some noodles.'"

"Ryan, what am I supposed to say to that?"

"I'm sorry, Cho. The truth is, yeh, I love you, and yeh, I thought a life together would be the absolute top. But I've seen all this, and it's your world, and, and, how can I compete with that? What have I got to offer?"

Cho again kissed Ryan passionately, and without the rest of the stadium watching. "You offer me that," she said softly, smiling. "You offer me your love, and I value that more than all the matches I ever played. You offer me a life with you, and I say yes, yes, Ryan, yes!"

They finally left the stadium; shortly after they did so, it vanished. "Well," Ryan said as they walked back to town hand in hand, "how are we going to work this?"

"We should be able to figure it out."

"Maybe you can stand for Parliament."

"Pull the other one, Ryan."

xxx

A/N: "We've Got Magic To Do" is, of course, the opening song of "Pippin", a show scored by Stephen Schwartz, who also wrote "Wicked" and "Godspell."

Ryan Lin is my own invention, just to be able to do something with JKR's "Cho married a Muggle" line yet have it come out with grace and dignity for all concerned.

As my readers should know by now, though, I am a hopeless Harry/Cho shipper, mainly because the Canon goes that way so very well. There are Harry/Ginny indications of course, but JKR doesn't seem as committed to them, and so neither am I.

Coming soon: another post-Hallows Epilogue, bringing Harry and Cho together again…


	18. Chapter 18

EPILOGUE II: "BAD TIME?"

By monkeymouse

NB: JKRowling built the Potterverse; I'm just redecorating one of the rooms. In this case, though, since I'm speculating on the Potterverse without guidance from JKRowling, it's more like I'm building a new wing onto the house.

You may notice the first few paragraphs are identical to the beginning of Epilogue 1. There was no reason to change any of it; I just had to change the course of events a little and let a whole new story tell itself.

Rated: R for brief sexual content

Spoilers: None

xxx

Cho stayed remarkably close to the plan she outlined to her parents at Hogwarts. She joined the Tutshill Tornados as a Reserve Seeker, then in six months time was able to play her first professional match. In the interim she practiced harder than she ever had at Hogwarts. She saw that the level of play in professional Quidditch was much faster and much more aggressive than she was used to. She also saw that newspaper accounts of a match bore little resemblance to what really happened on the pitch.

Cho's training mixed Quidditch practice in Tutshill and sessions in the basement walking on teacups. One discipline sharpened her for the other, and in November 1998, when she played her first match as a Seeker for the Tornados, still using her old school broom, the crowd went from amused laughter to stunned silence to hearty cheering in short order. Quoting a piece that appeared in the Christmas Annual edition of "Which Broomstick," their Welsh correspondent wrote: "A Seeker who is about to turn twenty, riding a Comet 260. This sounds like a May-December marriage doomed to fail. And yet Chang of Tutshill achieved miracles during her debut—nothing less. We expect to see continued stellar performances from her."

Cho, however, was as good as her word. She was indeed sought out by the press—from the "Prophet" to sporting magazines, from "Witch Weekly" to "The Quibbler." In each interview, she never failed to work in the history of some stellar Quidditch player, past or present, who was Half-and-Half or even Muggle-born. It never overshadowed her performance, but she saw that it always made it into print—or, in the case of the Wizarding Wireless Network, on the air.

She also spent the first two years shuttling back and forth between Tutshill and Diagon Alley, helping her parents out in the shoppe three days a week on average. Finally, there was a bit of a family row at Christmas 1999, when Cho's mother suggested that she move out of the family home; in fact, out of Diagon Alley altogether. "There's no need to come over so often," Lotus said. "We can certainly take care of ourselves. We've had enough practice at it." They yelled at each other for several hours until Mister Chang tried to calm the troubled waters. "You're twenty years old now, and you should do what people your age do. Go out on your own, see to your own meals and hobbies and entertainment. You'll always be welcome here, of course, but you've still got some growing to do."

Cho had actually been thinking the same thoughts since she joined Tutshill, but hadn't wanted to seem as if she was deserting the family. So, with their knowledge and blessings, she went on her 21st birthday to an agent, who showed her a small fourth-floor walkup apartment. She furnished it, placed her books on Chinese and British magic on the shelves, and (one of the reasons for getting this place) set up a roost under the eaves for Quan Yin.

After five years with the Tornados, Cho announced her retirement from Quidditch. She wasn't injured, and she was only about twenty-five years old. Nor did she say that the game had become boring; the way she played proved she didn't believe that. All she would say was a variation of what she told "Which Broomstick": that "there's something else I need to do." She just didn't yet have an idea what that might be.

At first, Cho returned to the shoppe and to her practice of Chinese magic with her mother, but it wasn't satisfying. There was no real reason to learn all these new techniques, and, besides, her parents had taken on, in Cho's absence, a young apprentice. She seemed very like Cho, a young Asian girl who turned out to be a cousin of a cousin; but she seemed more interested in learning herbology than in chatting up Cho about anything at all. Cho tried on several occasions to draw her out, but she said little. After a while, Cho gave up.

She went to the shoppe on Fridays because the apprentice wasn't old enough or experienced enough to take the week's proceeds to Gringott's; Cho didn't mind doing this. She understood how to fill out the paperwork for the Ministry's Goblin Liaison Office, which had a sub-cabinet post reconciling Gringott's and the Revenue office. Gringott's also had a special goblin teller assigned to these transactions, and, even though he didn't say much more to Cho than the apprentice did, Cho never felt the goblin was deliberately cold toward her. Actually, she considered him to be friendly—for a goblin.

As she finished the paperwork for the deposit one Friday, Cho heard a voice that carried through the quiet marble lobby:

"I need to withdraw this amount from my account, please, and I'd like half of that in Muggle money."

Harry!

Cho knew she didn't have much time. She looked across at the goblin handling her family's account:

"Excuse me, but would it be possible to send an owl?"

The goblin gave her a blank sheet of parchment; she wrote the shoppe's address and the message:

Want to spend some time with an old friend. See you tomorrow.

She gave the goblin the note, pocketed the receipt and looked around the lobby. Harry was still there, pocketing his money.

How to do this? She didn't want to put him on a spot, but she couldn't just let him walk out. They hadn't seen each other since the Battle of Hogwarts, but no need to bring it up now. Then she remembered the time she dropped in on Harry's compartment on the Hogwarts Express, the year after the Tri-Wizard. That hadn't worked too well, since just before she opened the compartment door Neville Longbottom's Mimbulus had just sprayed the compartment with stinksap. Cho tried to make a joke of it, but she had to cut things short. Not this time!

Cho walked silently up behind Harry, tapped him on the shoulder, and said, "Is this a bad time?"

Harry spun quickly about; he recognized the voice, and his face was already beaming when he saw her. "CHO!" he almost shouted, bringing very stern looks from the staff of goblins. "It's grand to see you! What are you doing here?"

"Taking care of some business for my parents. How about you; what are you doing back in Diagon Alley, Mister Globetrotter?"

"Just taking a few days off from all that," he smiled, although his creased forehead and eyebrows told Cho he had something else on his mind. "I read you left the Tornados; you're back here, then?"

"More or less. I help my parents at the shoppe a few days a week. But I have my own place now, just down the road from the Three Broomsticks."

"Down the road? You mean…"

"Yeh, in Muggle London. It's a nice place and, well, we all have to leave the nest sometime."

"It's been ages since I've seen you, and there's so much to catch up on."

"Then let's catch up over dinner tonight; it'll be my treat. Unless you have plans…" Cho hated herself the moment she said that last sentence.

"Plans? Erm, no, nothing that can't wait…" Even though his words were reassuring, Harry seemed rather nervous. Cho knew she had to push on.

"Then let me change out of these robes, and I'll meet you in front of the Three Broomsticks in…" Cho glanced at the bank clock. "Fifteen minutes; okay?"

"Sounds super."

"See you in fifteen, then!"

Cho turned and ran out of the bank, across to the Three Broomsticks, and out the front door. She lived only a few doors down, but the worst part was having to walk—in this case, run—up four flights. But she did it, tossed off her robes, and quickly decided on what to wear: a black cheongsam with red silk designs and red piping, with tan sandals. Then she almost flew back to the Three Broomsticks, where Harry was sitting at the bar, fending off his own group of well-wishers, much as he'd met his very first day there.

Now, of course, when Cho joined him, Tom the innkeeper was stunned. "Well, now, wouldn't you two be on the cover of 'Witch Weekly!'"

As Harry tried to break free, Cho heard him say, "I'm sorry, but maybe later. We have an engagement—I mean, an appointment!" Harry's words could have been taken a number of ways, but for a moment they made Cho's insides tumble around like a Chaser who'd lost control of the broom.

Out on the pavement, the two took a moment to look at each other. Harry looked like a Muggle businessman after work: shirt open at the collar, no necktie, and a light jacket. He still wore the same wireframe glasses he'd worn at Hogwarts.

He looked at Cho and smiled. "You didn't have to dress up like that for me."

"It was quick, easy, and handy. Really, not so much."

"Well, really, you look beautiful."

"Thanks," she said, barely above a whisper, blushing prettily. "It's … just a shame that girls can never tell a boy that they look beautiful. It just sounds wrong."

"Erm, thanks, I guess."

They stood on the pavement for another minute, just looking into each other's eyes, just as they had done at Hogwarts when they were content to do no more than that—until Cho sort of shook off the memory.

"I did invite you to dinner, after all. Is Italian all right?"

"Yeah, fine."

xxx

The restaurant was only a few streets away; it was small but comfortable, and the décor was neither too garish nor too gloomy.

"Looks like a good place," Harry said.

Cho nodded; "An improvement over my choice of Madam Puddifoot's."

Harry winced a bit as he recalled their Valentine's Day date in Hogsmeade, which had gone so disastrously wrong. "You shouldn't blame yourself; I was a royal prat back then."

"I know, because I was one, too. I shouldn't have forced you into that, Harry. I was missing Cedric and, I suppose, trying to recapture him, somehow. It wasn't fair."

"Well, here's to getting away with no lasting harm." Harry raised his water goblet, and Cho did the same.

"I'm glad to hear that," Cho said as she took a sip. A waiter then brought their order: pork medallions for Harry, chicken vesuvio for Cho. They set to and were silent for a few minutes.

Once a large part of dinner had been eaten, and they'd drunk a bit of the house red wine, they began to talk. Harry, conscious of being in a Muggle restaurant, had to be careful what he told Cho about his work, especially his most recent case. "Had to go all the way to Malaysia. The Ministry wanted a hundred-year-old case reopened. Some really nasty things out there, attributed to what the locals called the Giant Rat of Sumatra."

"Sounds ghastly."

"It was. In fact, the Ministry got my report and locked it up in the file; says the world still isn't ready to hear about it."

"Makes me sound like a complete slacker."

"Don't say that. I've followed every match in your career; thanks to the Prophet, anyway. Couldn't always get to games from the other side of the world."

"Did you really? You followed me?"

""That's an odd question; why wouldn't I?"

"Because, well…" This was the moment Cho had dreaded; what Harry said next would either seal their friendship or kill it for good. "We didn't part on the best terms, because of Marietta. Hear me out! I know she betrayed the Army, but she was still my friend. You wanted me to choose between them, and I couldn't. She's still a friend of mine, in fact." She took another sip of wine. "Does that make a difference, then?"

Harry didn't say anything; he just looked down at the tablecloth, then after a minute his eyes met Cho's. "My last year at Hogwarts, well, when I was on the run from it, I spent a little time at Luna Lovegood's house; have you ever been?" Cho shook her head. "It looked like the tower of an old castle, or like a giant chess piece. But while I was there I had a chance to look into Luna's bedroom. You know she was friends with me and Ron and Ginny, and Hermione and Neville back then. Well, I saw something she put on the ceiling above her bed; it was pictures of the six of us riding brooms, and we were all connected by this golden ribbon that said 'friends.' It had to be the first thing she saw in the morning, and the last thing at night."

Harry stopped for a minute and sighed. "That was the most touching, and the most pathetic, thing I'd ever seen. Here's this girl who had so few friends in her life that she felt she had to build a shrine, practically, for the friends she had. Since then I've thought about that a lot; and also about you and Marietta. I came to realize that life is just too short to waste any of it being angry at someone because of their choice of friends. I wasted months being mad at Marietta, and being mad at you as well, because you took her side. I didn't want to feel that way but I did, and, well, I'm sorry."

Cho reached across the table, and took Harry's hand in hers. "Thank you for saying that," she said; "I didn't want it to end on that note."

Neither moved or said anything for a minute, until Harry suddenly pulled his hand away from hers. "Dessert?"

"Maybe later," Cho smiled, signaling for the cheque. "Do you fancy a stroll in the night air?"

xxx

They made their way to the Millennium Bridge, which had just been reopened to the public; some sort of design flaw gave it vibrations that took two years to sort out. Now, however, couples and families were walking along the bridge, or, like Harry and Cho, sitting on benches. They were eating lemon ices, and watching the stars wink on in the darkening sky.

"Do you see many of your old friends, then?" Cho asked.

"I saw a lot of Ron and Hermione when I was with the Aurors. I really don't know if I want to stay with the Ministry, though. After Voldemort, they gave me a lot of the hard cases, but that's pretty much done now. They'll keep me on call, but I probably won't hear from them for a while. Just as well, I suppose."

"Ron and Hermione were quite the item at Hogwarts."

"Yeh, and afterwards. He hasn't asked yet, but I expect it's a matter of time."

Cho wanted to keep looking straight ahead, but she turned to Harry: "And Ginny?"

Harry stayed silent for a minute. Cho thought he dreaded hearing the question as much as she dreaded asking it. "I'm going down to the Burrow tomorrow," he finally said. "I was supposed to get in late at night, so I booked a room at the Three Broomsticks, but I caught an early flight."

"You didn't use a Portkey?"

"Can't if you're with the Ministry. The Prime Minister made Minister Shacklebolt swear that nobody dodgy could Port across national borders, but Muggles think Portkeys are dodgy to begin with, so it really hurts. That's 9-11 for you. Anyway, I'll be down with the Weasleys starting tomorrow."

Silence. "And?"

They both knew what Cho meant. "I think it's time. I'm going to ask Ginny to marry me."

Silence again from Cho, so Harry kept talking. "You know how it is, and you know how it's been. I'm glad I ran into you today, Cho, because I really wanted to see you one more time. You're the first girl I ever really, you know, fell in love with, even if it didn't work out. And, believe me, I wish it did, but, well, it just didn't.

"I guess what really drew me to Ginny was her whole family, not just herself, although that's enough right there. But her mum and dad have been like parents to me, and they're links to my real mum and dad; it seems they'll never run out of stories about James and Lily Potter, before they met and right up to when Voldemort killed them. Family is the one thing I've missed all those years with the Dursleys; they treated me like some sort of stray dog and made life miserable right up to the day I discovered I was a wizard. And I always said to myself I'd marry into the best family there ever was; that's my revenge on the Dursleys. But that's just jam on the bread, of course; I've been in love with Ginny for years."

Cho was still silent, looking down at the pavement. "What's wrong, Cho?"

"Nothing." She looked at Harry and smiled. "You're happy with her, and that's the main thing." Then she grabbed one of Harry's hands and stood up. "But now you need to come with me."

"Why?"

"Because I made a promise to myself; a promise about you, even though you don't know it yet."

xxx

By the time they got back to Cho's flat it was late at night; most of the sounds of the city had ceased. Cho led Harry up the stairs to her apartment, unlocked the door, and opened it.

It looked pretty much as Harry thought it might; some furniture, used and somewhat worn; traditional Chinese art on the walls, doors leading from the parlour to the kitchen and to the bedroom.

There was one other thing in the parlour: a large bookcase that covered most of one wall, from floor to ceiling, with a rolltop writing desk in front; but only half the shelves were filled with books. The rest held plastic cases: row on row of compact disc jewel cases.

"I never expected this!" he said.

"Oh, there's a few of us who don't avoid Muggle tech," Cho smiled. "I rather like the music."

"How many discs do you have?"

"Ah, that's a tricky question. I have much more music than I have CDs, because I download from the Web to the CPU." Cho opened the rolltop, to reveal a monitor screen and a keyboard.

Harry flushed a bit in embarrassment. "Ever since I started at Hogwarts, I lost track of all this sort of stuff."

"You don't need to understand it, Harry. You just need to do one thing you already know how to do."

"And what exactly is that?"

Cho started clicking keys on the keyboard. "Harry, I've always felt totally rotten that I had to say no to your invitation to the Yule Ball. And I truly meant to seek you out that night and dance at least one dance with you. But being with Cedric was just so … befuddling, I guess you'd say. I stopped thinking straight that night, and it lasted far too long. So, no matter what happens tomorrow, tonight is my chance to make it up to you."

"You don't have the Weird Sisters on that, do you?"

"Good Heavens, no; this is more appropriate."

Cho clicked a final key and stood up. Harry just read the words "I'M OLD FASHIONED – JOHN COLTRANE" on the screen when the music started: a jazz trio with saxophone. He turned to Cho, still looking radiant in her black cheongsam.

"Harry Potter, may I have this dance?"

Harry could only nod as Cho stepped toward him, took his right hand in her left, and placed her other hand on his shoulder. Harry wrapped his free hand around her to her back. Cho leaned her head against Harry's chest, and the two began, not exactly dancing, but swaying to the music, holding each other.

Harry felt that he was in a fog; no matter how hard he tried to remember how he'd spent the days before this weekend anticipating the Burrow, the Weasleys, and especially Ginny, all he could see was Cho in his arms; all he could feel was her holding him as he held her; all he could hear was the soft slow jazz in the room and Cho sighing the most contented sigh he had ever heard—

"NO!"

He couldn't help it; a kind of panic took him over. He let go of Cho, took a step backwards. "This … I'm sorry, Cho, it's not right. I, well, I came back to England for Ginny, because I, I didn't exactly promise anything, but I need to, because I, because she … I can't be with you, not here, not now!"

Cho stood still as a statue. Her face was expressionless, yet, familiar as he was with Cho's moods and emotions even if he couldn't put it into words, she seemed on the edge of breaking down.

"Do you mean that, Harry? Do you really mean that?"

In Harry's chest at that moment, it felt like a stone split in two.

"Not one bloody word of it," he said hoarsely, as he stepped back to Cho and kissed her.

xxx

"Harry?"

"Hmm?"

Cho couldn't say anything else. She just reached over to Harry; the room was pitch black, but she didn't need to see him to know where he was, to know where they were, to know what they had been doing.

How long had it been? Hours, it must have been; this dark, it must be before dawn, maybe four. She would know if it was close to dawn. Her hand found Harry's chest, smooth and hairless, taut yet also relaxed. Harry curled one of his hands gently around hers, pulled it toward his face, and kissed one of her fingers. And, for the longest time, even after hours of passionate lovemaking, after the release of what felt like years of bottled-up desire for both of them, she would remember that one kiss on one finger.

They lay together a little while longer, unmoving, silent and happy, until Harry spoke: "Cho?"

"Hmm?"

"Erm, this, this seems like a silly thing to ask…"

"It's a little late in the game to be embarrassed, Harry."

'No, well, I was just wondering, well, do you feel…" His voice trailed off.

"I feel…" She didn't have to search far for the word: "perfect."

"I mean, I've, well, I've never done this before, and I wasn't sure that you…"

Cho shifted in the bed until her face was next to Harry's, and gently kissed his lips. "Full points for Gryffindor," she whispered, then rested her head on his chest. He wrapped his arms around her.

They lay together until Cho saw it—what she'd dreaded seeing.

"Harry."

"Hmm?"

"The sun's coming up; it's time."

From what Harry could see, the curtains were still drawn. Cho caressed his cheek with one thumb. "Look up there." He looked toward the ceiling and saw, in one corner, a gray disk of light against the blackness. "I chose this flat because of that window; very handy for the owl. And it always catches the first light of morning. Better than a clock."

Harry tightened his grip on her. "I really don't want to go."

"And I don't want you to go. But you must, and we both know it."

"Yeh," he sighed. "I know I spent half of last night talking about Ginny, but you're not going to think any less of me, are you?"

"Why? Will you think less of me? Harry, neither of us planned what happened; we met in Gringott's by accident. And I wouldn't change a minute of what happened after that—and certainly not the last few hours."

"It's just that, well, this isn't the sort of thing I can talk to Ginny about. Accident or not, she'd go positively mental."

"Then don't tell her, if you think it's a bad idea. I trust your judgment about Ginny."

"But what if I…" Harry started to ask something, then let it trail off. Nothing he could think of would give him an excuse to stay. He sighed, but not a sigh of contentment like before. This was resignation.

"Harry, please, you love someone who loves you back. Don't feel bad about that on my account."

Harry started getting dressed. Cho just continued to lie in bed, uncovered and completely naked and unconcerned about what Harry could see.

He saw that Cho had grown into a classic Oriental beauty. Her breasts weren't large but they were large enough; her nipples were hard, almost olive-colored (since there was just enough light now to see colours) with hardly any areolae at all. He stopped himself looking beyond that, afraid that he might never leave.

"I'll walk you to the door." She slipped out of bed, still naked, and took his hand in hers, as naturally as they did when they were dating in Hogwarts.

"Well," Harry said, trying to make light of the moment, "maybe Ginny will change and we can all get together again one day."

"You may be right; none of us knows what's to come. Harry, I hope you'll be happy with Ginny, honestly I do."

"Well, if I'm not and it ends up going to pieces, you'll be the first to know." They kissed at the door: not passionately as they did in bed, nor brusquely like two people on a train platform. The kiss was light, lingering, and neither would forget it.

"Goodbye, Harry."

"Goodbye, Cho." And, with part of his brain still unsure why, he left.

As soon as he stepped out onto the road and started toward the Three Broomsticks, Harry heard a voice: Ron Weasley was just coming out of the inn, and had been asking for Harry. Harry knew he had to tell Ron, and the rest of the Weasleys, something; he decided to invent a story about meeting an old school friend—a house-mate from Gryffindor.

Cho watched from her window, still naked. At this hour it was unlikely that anyone was there to see her standing in the window. Harry turned, half-hoping to see her, but, by the time he turned, she was gone.

They would see each other again, in twenty-five years.

xxx

It was a Friday afternoon. Cho had been doing laundry, and was now folding it by hand. She could have spelled everything back into their closets and drawers, but it took up the time, and she liked listening to her music collection while she did so—a collection which had grown in the passing quarter-century.

Just as she finished, there was a knock on the door. Not expecting anyone so soon, she opened the door. The wire-rimmed glasses hadn't changed, except they were a bit worse for wear, and his hair had started to go salt-and-pepper, but his eyes still were the same vivid green.

He grinned like an embarrassed child. "I said you'd be the first…"

He never finished the sentence as Cho threw herself into his arms and kissed him.

An hour later they were sitting in her kitchen, holding hands and coffee cups, gazing into each other's eyes and smiling. They may have started trying to recreate that night of passion, but quickly realized: they were older—decades older.

"So, you actually left Ginny?"

"Yeh, the minute she threw me out."

"Harry, what happened?"

"Devil if I know," he said, a little too breezily; Cho let it pass for now. He's hiding something. If he keeps talking, she felt, he might tell the truth in spite of himself.

"Is she still here in London?"

"Maybe. She's all alone in the house if she is here. She's probably gone to her parents, giving them her side of the story."

"Where is the house?"

"Where it's always been, on Grimmauld Place. I inherited it from Sirius Black, you know."

Cho nodded. "Seems you had a very colourful family after all."

Harry sipped his coffee. "Not all of them. Our kids are grown now and moved out; I'm lucky if I hear from them on the hols. And I get back in London today and Ginny gives me this." He pulled some papers out of his pocket and dropped them on the table.

"So she brought the action?" Harry nodded. "The law doesn't admit to many grounds."

"She said I abandoned her."

"Even though you were still living there? She must have had a very clever solicitor."

"That's the only funny part of the whole thing. Her solicitor was my Muggle cousin Dudley Dursley."

"Pull the other one!"

"Just give me a few more minutes."

"Cheeky. But tell me about Dudley."

"As I got the story, he was still pretty much of a bruiser, although he behaved when I was around. Must have been because I saved him from a Dementor. Anyway, when he turns eighteen, he starts looking for work, and finds a spot where his brawling could be put to use: he became a constable."

"Now you ARE joking!"

"S'truth. He figured he could knock heads together and get paid for it. After a while, though, he surprised everybody. He noticed that barristers do less physical labour than the police, and get paid better, so he went into law school. It must have been tough for him, but the police work gave him a leg up, and, well, he graduated. He worked for a couple of seedy firms before striking out on his own. Had a bit of success at it."

"What could Ginny say to convince him that you'd abandoned her?"

Harry shrugged. "It all happened so fast, I didn't read the whole thing yet."

By way of reply, Cho cast a wandless Accio spell on the divorce papers. Once she had them in hand, she looked at Harry, with a deep sadness. "You know I'm willing to let you stay here as long as you like, but not if you're going to lie to me."

Harry started to say something once or twice, but then the look on Cho's face made him give it up. "You're right," he sighed; "it was the first thing I read, of course. It just, it showed how insecure and spiteful Ginny was all this time. I don't know why I didn't see it; maybe I just didn't want to see it."

"What happened?"

"About two years ago, we'd gone to visit one of the kids in their new flat. Albus, it was; wanted to set it up with no help from us. So we were there for a couple of hours, and then we walked back to Grimmauld Place." He paused for a few seconds. "And the way home took us past Regent Park."

Cho thought about that for a few seconds, then her eyes went wide. "Oh, Harry, no," she said, almost in a whisper.

"Yeh, that's exactly what happened. We stopped to look at the swans, and I remembered you and your Patronus. The next thing I know, she's punching my arm asking if I'd fallen asleep."

"Of course you tried to reassure her."

"I tried, I suppose, but not very hard. I thought it was such a foolish thing for her to worry about, and I probably sounded that way. You know I never tried to get hold of you from that day to this, but she seemed to think I'd…"

"Lost interest?" Cho got up from her chair, and held out her hand for Harry to do the same. She put her arms around Harry.

"We've known each other for decades," she said softly. "And I can't even remember a day any more when I wasn't in love with you. But I have to ask this. You know better than I what life married to Ginny was like: the daughter of your friends, the mother of your children. I don't know now if you're here because you want to be with me, or if she sent you packing and you just were looking for a friend. I'll always be that friend, Harry; I hope you know that. But if there's some part of you that still wants to be with her, if Ginny were to reach out and ask to have you back, well, what would you do? If that was what you wanted, I'd let you go, of course, even though it might kill me to do it."

Harry stood silent and still for a few seconds, then gave a rather weak smile and kissed Cho. "No fear, Cho; I'm here now because, even though there's places all over London I could be, I can't be anywhere else. If Ginny changed her mind now, it wouldn't change a thing; now I know what she's about, and I can't deny it. I guess we both made a mistake wanting each other, and I know that now because I never felt like this with her."

"Honestly? How did you feel?"

"What did you say about Cedric last time: you felt befuddled? I guess that was it. It all made sense at the time."

Cho smiled and hugged him tighter. Still, she thought, there's something he's hiding; something he's embarrassed to admit, I suppose. I know you'll tell me, Harry; just take whatever time you need.

Just as Harry started to kiss her again there came a loud banging on the door followed by an equally loud yell: "ARMFUL OF GROCERIES!"

Cho put one finger on Harry's lips, then turned to answer the door.

"Messenger service?" Harry asked.

"In a manner of speaking," Cho smiled, as she opened the door.

Whoever it was had a double armful of groceries, which obscured the speaker's entire face. He could tell from the voice it was a young woman, who kept up a nonstop chatter from the door to the kitchen. "The crowd at the market was an absolute bitch—pardon my French," she said as she placed the paper bags on the kitchen counter. "I don't know if they were having some sort of giveaway or…" She stopped talking as she saw Harry. Now he could see she was a young adult, with her own pair of wire-rimmed glasses tinted black, and with short raggedly-cut hair, almost as if she'd done it herself.

She stared at Harry, while a smile slowly spread on her face like a sunrise. "It's time, innit?" she asked Cho.

Cho nodded: "Yes, it's time."

"Time for what?" Harry asked.

"Well, you wouldn't tell me, even after it got obvious…"

"It only seemed obvious to you, because you were so…"

"I know, I know; wit and learning. Can we forget about Ravenclaw?"

"Not even with a hundred Memory Mods!"

"Erm," Harry interrupted, "excuse me, but…"

"Sorry, sorry. Harry, this is Chinhua."

"Awful name, innit?" the young woman interrupted. "It was even worse when I found out it meant 'golden flower.' Does that sound like some cliché or not? After a while, I found out what the Golden Flower means in Chinese magic; pretty important, actually, so I got used to it."

"Give him a minute, please!" Cho laughed. "Anyway, Harry, this is your daughter."

The whole world felt as if someone had slammed on the brakes. He fell back into a chair, still looking at this perfect stranger who…

"There were always clues, of course," Chinhua said as she walked up to Harry and lifted her glasses. "These were a bit of a giveaway." Behind the tinted lenses, under the epicanthal folds, her oriental eyes were the same vivid green as Harry's. "Oh, and they're not for show, either; I've needed glasses since I was nine. Another present you left me."

"WAIT!" Harry couldn't help shouting; everything was moving too fast. He'd just gotten back home after travelling on Ministry business—which he'd stretched out as if he knew what Ginny had waiting for him; then after losing Ginny he'd found Cho again, only to also find…

"Chinhua," Cho said, "would you please put up the groceries?"

"But I want to hear this!"

"Right, then. Chinhua, would you please go into the kitchen so I can talk to Harry privately?"

"Oh, it's THAT kind of talk, eh? Well, don't make too much noise; I'm still young and impressionable." She lifted her glasses, winked at Harry, then went into the kitchen.

Harry, still stunned, looked at Cho, who was chuckling. "I don't know where she gets that," she smiled, "but she can always make me laugh."

"Wait. So she… you and I…"

"That's all it took."

"Then, well, why the hell didn't you TELL ME!" Harry was somehow fearful of what happened: how he had been kept from knowing about this, his fourth child. Part of him felt panic rising, and he fell back on anger.

Cho, however, simply smiled. "Harry, think about it: what would have been the point? If I'd gone looking for you before you married Ginny—or, worse, after—it would have just rattled everything. I show up and say, 'Guess what's cooking in the cauldron!' Everybody would be upset. Ginny would hate you and me; worse, you might try to split yourself between two families and end up hating both of us. It just made more sense to wait until you had to know."

"But you and…"

"Chinhua."

"I mean, I could have helped…"

"And if help were needed, I would have asked. I AM a Ravenclaw, you know. So what do you think it means that I didn't ask?"

Harry started blushing. "That you didn't need help?"

"My mother helped with some things, but money was never an issue. I made an obscene amount flying for Tutshill."

"And you never got mad at me for not being around?"

"I missed you, Harry, but that's as far as it went."

"And as for me," Chinhua cut in, leaving the kitchen where she seemed to be listening by the door, "mummy always insisted I was never to hate or think ill of you. If you couldn't be here, she said you had your reasons. And now you have your reasons to be here after all, so it's all good."

Part of Harry wanted to explode; he felt that he'd been manipulated somehow. But, try as he might, he couldn't stay angry. Instead, he half-chuckled, turned to Chinhua and asked, "So is this what it's like when you love a Ravenclaw?"

"You should have had one for a mother," Chinhua smiled. "If I ever wanted to skive off some work, she'd give me ten reasons why I should do it anyway. And if I wanted to do something a little dodgy, she'd have twenty reasons why I shouldn't. It was always simpler just to listen to her."

"Thank you for that," Cho smiled. "Now, could you go back to the kitchen just for a minute?"

"Oh, all right," Chinhua said with mock reluctance, "but don't wear yourselves out. My debut's tonight."

"I remember, but this is important."

Chinhua saluted Cho, then went back into the kitchen.

"She's really something," Harry smiled, shaking his head.

"Harry, did you mean that?"

"Mean what?"

"Just now, when you asked if that's what it was like to love a Ravenclaw. That's…" She wrapped her arms around Harry. "That's the first time you ever said you loved me."

"The first? Are you sure?" Cho nodded. "Funny; I lost track of the number of times I thought it."

A tear started to form in the corner of Cho's eye; Harry kissed her. "I love you, Cho, and I want to spend the rest of my life here, with you and Chinhua."

Cho still had one misgiving about Harry but, before she could speak it, Chinhua burst out of the kitchen. "Tempus fugit, people! The show starts in an hour!"

"What show?!" Harry asked even as Cho pushed and Chinhua dragged him out the door.

xxx

From the street "Inside Outside" looked like any of a hundred other youth clubs scattered around London. The curtains were drawn and the door was closed, although there was a board on the sidewalk that announced : World Premiere Tonight! DJ MickMack and Chinwag. Harry barely had time to read the sign before he was dragged inside.

Again, it didn't look out of the ordinary inside. A dozen or so mismatched tables, chairs, and an assortment of posters on the wall. The posters, however, were of U2 and The Weird Sisters; Muggle musicians and those from the wizarding world. Dispensers were brewing coffee and tea, while bottles of Muggle fizzy drinks and butterbeer chilled in ice-filled tubs.

Harry turned to Cho: "Does the Ministry know about this?"

Chinhua answered instead: "If they know, they haven't said anything. Relax, daddy; they're not worried about cross clubs."

"Cross clubs?"

"A few years ago, Muggles on the Internet started making contact with some of us who were also online. After a while they started meeting in older established clubs, and then in clubs of our own. There are quite a few around London."

"How many is quite a few?"

"Nobody knows, really; the Ministry can't enforce the Secrecy Statutes because they never expected magic-Muggle contact like this. There's no real magic done of an evening at the clubs; it's just a social gathering."

"You saw the sign on the way in, right?" Chinhua asked excitedly.

Harry nodded. "I guess you're Chinwag, then." Cho rolled her eyes. "Who's the other one?"

"MickMack has been the DJ here for a couple of years. Actually, we met in Hogwarts; we were both in Ravenclaw. We both liked listening to Muggle music, and we started performing it, just for the Common Room at first. Tonight will be our first time in a club!"

"Next questions: what's a DJ, and what kind of name is MickMack?"

"Allow me." The voice behind Harry was of a young man who stood almost a head taller than Harry, Cho and Chinhua. He had dark eyes, unkempt sandy-brown hair and a bushy brown mustache. He thrust his hand out toward Harry, who shook it automatically; the gesture vaguely reminded Harry of something. "I'm Michael Macmillan, MickMack when I DJ. I can't wait for my da to get here; he's gone on about you for years; he'll be so chuffed to see you again."

Harry couldn't place this young man at first, much less imagine who his father might be. He glanced toward Cho, but she and Chinhua were at a makeshift stage in the corner of the club, where two chairs and two guitars were set up.

"Erm, right. And pardon my asking, but how do you DJ?"

"I guess you'd call me a Master of Ceremonies, really. I program background music most nights, mix tracks, introduce live acts if we have them; haven't done that too often. Mostly I just suss out the mood of the place, and match up the music to the mood."

"HARRY POTTER!"

Harry turned at the shout. At first he couldn't see who it was; the club was starting to fill up. Then a full-faced man, whose sandy hair was shot through with white, and with wizard's robes thrown over a three-piece suit, worked his way to the two and pumped Harry's hand fiercely.

"By the Lord, Harry, damned good to see you after all these years! The last time has to be the Battle, eh?"

Now Harry placed him: Ernie Macmillan, a Hufflepuff who even as a youth seemed puffed-up and at first was suspicious of Harry, especially during the Chamber of Secrets business, but who later became a fierce ally.

"So, Michael's your son, then?"

"And who'd have thought our family trees would cross at the upper branches, eh? I don't know where you've been hiding yourself, but you've got to come round some Sunday so we can catch up."

Harry had heard words like those so many times that he usually brushed them aside, or referred these requests to Ginny to see what she wanted. Now that it was on his shoulders, he realized he wanted to go.

"I'd like that, yeh. What do you make of all this?"

"What? The mash-up, as Michael calls it? It's not Ministry approved, of course, but frankly I like it. There's an energy here, a reaching across the boundaries; it's just a lark, but I get the feeling something important could come of all this."

Michael clapped his hand on his dad's shoulder. "We're starting in a minute, da. Better grab a table."

Cho walked up to them at that moment. "You're welcome to sit with us, Ernie."

"That'd be grand, Cho, simply grand!" Harry found himself sandwiched between Cho and Ernie, as the house lights dimmed and Michael and Chinhua took the stage.

"Well, this is the big test, innit?" Michael said to the fifty or so people in the audience. He had an easy-going sense of humour about him, and Harry could tell they wouldn't have to work hard at winning over the audience. "Biggest test of all, though is that both our fathers are here tonight. That's a first, and I'm nervous about it. You nervous?" he asked Chinhua.

Her answer was a completely deadpan "Terrified." It seemed to Harry that everyone in the place laughed at that.

"Here we go, then."

Michael started strumming some chords while Chinhua played a light countermelody. Then he started singing Jim Croce's "I've Got a Name." At first, Harry looked about the club, watched Chinhua and Michael performing, looked at Cho positively beaming over her daughter—THEIR daughter. Ernie watched with his chin in his hands and elbows on the table. As Harry watched, a single tear rolled down his cheek. When the song ended, he loudly applauded; he would have jumped to his feet, Harry thought, if the place weren't so crowded.

After that it was a near-perfect set; tunes by the Beatles, Simon and Garfunkel, James Taylor, and even Green Day's "Good Riddance" to finish. Michael did most of the talking and had a very winning personality as well as a fine singing voice. Chinhua often only sang harmony but was the better guitarist.

Between the two sets, Harry asked Ernie about Michael.

"Surprised the dickens out of me that he was Sorted into Ravenclaw, but I should have seen that coming. He was always brilliant, nose buried in a book or listening to his mum's music, and I mean really listening. It's like he was looking for something there." Ernie took a sip of the ale he'd ordered, then sat silently for a minute.

Harry realized he had to ask, since Cho wasn't forthcoming with information. "What about his mother?"

Ernie looked straight ahead. "Sylvia Thundertree was just a junior clerk at the Ministry when I met her, just after I left Hogwarts. But I knew there was something about her. We dated a while, then we got married, and Michael came along." Ernie sat still at the table.

"After a few years she started having problems. I took her to Healers and Muggle doctors. And … it was cancer. Stomach. Pretty bad by the time they caught it; not much they could do. We lost her just a month before Michael was supposed to go to Hogwarts. At first he refused to go; can you imagine? He was worried about me being all alone, you see.

"He went, and was sorted into Ravenclaw, where he met Chinhua. I don't know how, but they found a couple of old guitars in the House, and they've been like brother and sister from that day to this. He'd come home for every vacation, though, and play me whatever songs he'd learned, and sometimes Chinhua would come over too. I was glad to see them together; I think it did them both good."

"I know it did," Cho added. "Harry and I were the same way: we found our brothers and sisters at Hogwarts. The place felt like home."

Just then the concert started again, with "Carolina in My Mind." This time, before the song was over, tears had run down Harry's cheek, and didn't stop until after the last song.

Even as Michael and Chinhua made their way to the table after the set, Harry's head was on the table, resting on his arms. Cho told Ernie "We'll be in touch" and complimented Michael on the music, then tried to talk to Harry. At first he didn't say a word.

"Daddy, what's wrong?" Chinhua asked.

After a minute Harry said: "I am. I got it wrong. I've been wrong this whole time."

"Talk to us, Harry," Cho said softly.

"I, I never forgave the Dursleys for the way they treated me. And I couldn't forgive Voldemort for taking away my parents. Not until the end, anyway, and I had to die and come back again to understand it all. And I put so much faith in Ginny, and, and today she…" Harry had to pause and take deep breaths to stay in one piece. "And that's all a lie. I wanted to be a Weasley so bad that I didn't say or do anything once we were married to keep it together, to make sure everything was all right. I made all the choices, and Ginny let me, but I never worried about how she felt or what she thought. We were in the family, and that was all that mattered."

Cho raised his head up so they could see each other. "Harry, this afternoon I asked you whether you'd go back to Ginny if you had the chance. Whether we like it or not, this is that chance."

Harry tried to speak, but no words came out at first. Finally, he shook his head. "I thought I knew what the answer was; I thought I knew what a family was. And I was so full of that idea that I ignored the Weasleys almost all of the time I was with Ginny. They were just too polite to call me out on it, I suppose. And today I find you and Chinhua and even Ernie Macmillan and Michael and, and Merlin knows who else will appear tomorrow. I know now. I know it's not about having a family; everybody's got that anyway, for good or ill. It wasn't until today I realized what I wanted all this time: a home. Even when I was married to Ginny, I've never had a home."

Cho thought for a minute, then stood up, reached down and took one of Harry's hands in her own.

"Well, then," she smiled, "let's go home, Harry Potter."

She helped him up, and, with his daughter Chinhua on one side and his beloved Cho Chang on the other side, they left the club.

xxx

A/N: You may know that "the giant rat of Sumatra" was a case alluded to in a Sherlock Holmes story of Arthur Conan Doyle, "The Adventure of the Sussex Vampire." Holmes tells Watson in passing that it is "a story for which the world is not yet prepared." It's one of the most famous teases in literature, and quite a few writers have tried their hands at telling the tale.

So; here it is. Pretty much the end of a long and winding road, telling the Harry Potter Saga from Cho's point of view, and getting to a rather different Happily Ever After ending. Obviously, some will disagree that this is how to leave it, but, in any event, it's a tribute to JK Rowling and her industry and imagination that she was able to paint such a magnificently detailed picture. I just hope I did it the best justice I could with my own copy.


End file.
